Human Shield
by practice4morale
Summary: It's by pure chance that Winry is abducted and chosen to be veteran Edward Elric's punishment after his failed escape. Both broken by the horrific acts Ed is forced into by their captors, they are held in a dungeon-like prison where they wait to die as victims of a twisted world. Things change, though, when Winry realizes Ed's 'punishment' has left her pregnant. M: thematic content
1. The Decision

**A/N: I got discouraged with every single thing I was writing simultaneously for a few days. So, I decided to start something new to make me feel productive through the block. I've had this in mind for a while, but I wasn't sure I'd ever do it. I mean, when would I even start it? When I had writer's block; that's when I'd start it.**

**WARNING! This story has mentions of rape and other thematic elements, so mind the rating.**

* * *

Chapter One: The Decision

"I can't," the young man said again. His golden eyes couldn't stay still. They darted in every direction, except toward me.

"Should've thought of that before, hey?" said the older man standing between us. He laughed in a way that made me flinch back. He really did sound more like a monster than a man.

A monster. That's what he was. I shivered on the thin carpet. I'd seen what he'd done to some of the other girls. I'd only been taken off the train a day ago, but I'd figured out fairly quickly what this was. His booted foot came up to kick me and, with my hands bound from steadying myself, I fell flat on my back with my whole weight. I coughed through the gag that had been run through my mouth.

The younger man winced at the sound. His golden eyes dropped to look at his shoes and he shook his head side to side like a child refusing to pick up a mess. "I can't."

"You will," said the monster with a smile.

The younger man hunched his shoulders and shook his head again, his blond bangs drooping around his frightened eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so submissive? There was only one thug in this closet-sized room with us. One! It shouldn't have been anything for this young man to take the monster down and get the two of us out of here. I could see the State Alchemist badge on his uniform; even through the dimness I could see. State Alchemists were supposed to be Amestris's elite. The military bragged that a weaponless State Alchemist was as good as a hundred fully armed soldiers. So, what made this cruel behemoth such an obstacle?

My breath caught as the young man's bangs fell away from his face enough for me to get a clearer view. I realized the darkness on the side of his cheek wasn't a shadow. It was a bruise. A wide, purpled bruise.

"Kill me, Roberts," the young man muttered. "I won't do it."

Kill? I bit down on the material gagging my mouth and tried to choke back the sudden urge to sob. What was going on? Why wasn't he helping me? Why had I been brought here all alone? Were they going to kill me too?

As if in answer to my question, the monster pulled out a gun from his belt and aimed in directly over my forehead. I twisted to get out of its way, but the monster stomped on my stomach and held me still with his boot. I fought to breathe and the sob in my throat made it harder.

"Stop it!" said the young soldier. "Just kill me! I'm not doing anything for you! What good is she to you if she's messed up?"

"Do it now," growled the monster, "or she's gone."

The soldier looked away and said with chilling sincerity, "Pull the trigger."

My chest heaved under the monster's boot. Pull the trigger? Kill me? Just like that? Tears burned my eyes and spilled down the sides of my face.

"Go ahead," said the soldier with stubborn eyes. "Kill her."

I closed my eyes. The monster laughed.

"How about this instead?" said the monster. "You do it, or we'll do it. Your choice, Fullmetal."

I heard the gun thud against the floor. My eyes flashed open at the thought that the weapon might've been knocked out of his hand. But that wasn't it. He'd dropped it himself, I realized, right next to his boot. Metal clinked and clicked as he fiddled to unhook his belt at the front of his brown trousers. I took a sharp breath as things suddenly began to make sense.

"No, stop!" said the soldier. "Just kill me now, Roberts!"

The monster reached across the small room and banged his fist twice against the door. I squinted against the light as the door opened and a rush of thugs, just like the monster, crowded in with us. Voices buzzed around; laughs and calls. The soldier was shouting as sets of arms held my already restrained body down while the monster unfastened the front of my pink floral shirt. I was shaking hard enough to make my stomach lurch. I'd vomit. I'd vomit for sure. They smelled like decaying carcasses and they just kept getting closer, choking me with their burning smiles. I begged that soldier with my eyes to make them stop, but he wasn't looking at me. Not at my eyes.

"Us or you?" said the monster. "You or us? Make up your mind, Fullmetal. You're running out of time."

Make them stop! Make them stop!

I fought against the hands, the pulls, grabs, and jerks. I bit down on the gag and tried not to feel. The soldier was planted completely still, trembling with effort like he was battling between a part of him that wanted to back up and part of him that wanted to charge. The monster's trousers dropped and I squirmed to meet the soldier's eyes. Do something. Do something!

"Please," the soldier said, shaking his head. "Not this."

The monster smiled. "Should've thought of that before you tried to run."

…

They didn't bother taking off the restraints before dragging me down the hall and throwing me through a new door. I was so gone that it didn't occur to me in the slightest that they'd be tossing me down a flight of stone stairs. It was a shallow set, maybe only four steps, but it was enough to jolt a scream out of me. The sound, muffled by the still fastened gag, was chilling to my own ears. I breathed in a sweat. My eyes darted up to the top of the stairs as the blond soldier stumbled through the door himself. I watched him catch himself without toppling like I'd done, like he'd known there would be stairs. The thick metal door slid into place with a boom. It was like we were being locked into a dungeon-like safe.

The blond soldier dropped to his knees and clawed his face with both hands. His chest was heaving in his worn blue uniform. His shoulders quaked like he was crying, but he wasn't. He seemed like he was coming close, but he just never got there.

"Oh, God," he said almost too quietly to hear. "Oh, God. What did I do?"

I sniffled. I leaned my face into the cool stone. This barren room was five times the size of what I had become fairly certain really had been a closet. The only thing present besides stone happened to be a small barred window at the top of the high walls for what I guessed was ventilation and lighting purposes. The light coming through now was orangey like sunset. My stomach growled. Was I really hungry? After everything, I was hungry?

I let out a sob. My body shuddered all over. I didn't fight it. Just curled my knees up loosely and cried. How had this happened? I was supposed to be spending my gap year volunteering in an orphanage!

My heart jerked at the warm fingers going over my wrists. I screamed into the gag without thinking about it. My body writhed from the touch. Then he spoke, and my muscles froze.

"Sorry," he said shakily.

Moments later, I felt the rope around my wrists loosen. My eyes widened at the sensation of the bonds sliding off. I heard the soldier's unsteady footsteps as he backed off from me and retreated to the far wall of the large prison. I watched him sink against the stone wearily. He brought his knees up against his chest and hid his face in his curled arms. I heard his muffled voice whisper to himself.

"Damn it!"

Such simple words. They sounded so broken. That's what this was. These monsters had been trying to break him. I'd been a device of torture. I sobbed.

I brought my hand up to my mouth and pulled the gag away. "It's okay."

His head jerked up at my raspy voice. He looked at me like he hadn't known I was there. Like my voice was a new sound to him. Like he hadn't heard anything more alien in his life. My face burned. This was the first time this man had met my eyes for more than a glance. Now he wouldn't look away. I broke eye contact and struggled to sit up, propping up my weight with trembling arms.

"Thanks for," my voice broke, "saving me."

I looked over in time to see him bury his face back in his knees. He spoke in a mumble, "Please, don't say that, ma'am." His voice was pleading.

I looked away again.

I curled up similarly to how he had, but I had to back off a little. I realized shifting my weight to the wrong places ached worse than I already did. The thought sent a sickening rush of adrenaline through me, making my hands tremble like dry leaves. I held my legs together tightly. I'd been damaged. I'd been ruined! I was cringing just to sit up straight!

I gulped, hand pressed against my pursed lips. Fresh tears dripped down my face. I tried not to let my mind go there, but I couldn't help but think about what would've happened to me if that soldier had waited to decide much longer. I remembered their hungry hands pawing my body and pulling my clothes from my skin. I would've been in pieces!

"You're safe down here," the soldier broke the silence. "As long as I do what they want from now on, you'll be fine. They'll leave you alone."

My chest broke into a retching sob and I cradled my face in my hands. "Why is this happening?"

"It's my fault," he said softly.

"I know," I said matter-of-factly. "Why are they doing this to you? What did you ever do to them? Is it because you're a State Alchemist?"

There was a pause.

"You caught that, huh?" he said.

I nodded in my hands and sniffed. "Your badge."

He sighed harshly. "Right. I should probably rip this thing off, come to think of it. It's what got me in trouble in the first place."

I rubbed my eye and looked up at him. He was leaning against the wall staring deadpan at the high stone ceiling. His fingers played around with the badge on his chest like he wasn't sure he'd take it off yet. Not because he was fond of it, but because he wasn't sure it was worth the effort. I noticed his mouth turn down slightly.

My brow furrowed. "Um, do you have something against the military?"

His eyes shifted to me. "Hm? What makes you say that?"

"You look," I sniffed, "bitter about something."

The side of his mouth pulled into a faint smirk for a moment. He looked back at the ceiling. "Observant. Hey, you should pick a spot and get some rest. I mean, you've…been through a lot."

He'd dodged the question pretty blatantly. That was a yes as far as I could tell. I _was_ a little weak, though. I shifted onto my wobbly knees and crawled slowly across the floor. I had to be careful. My legs' range of motion wasn't too varied if I wanted to avoid pain. The soldier looked surprised as I crawled over to sit beside him. He scooted from me like the wall was small enough that he had to make room. I cringed as plunked down on my rear. I hadn't meant to sit so hard, but my legs had given out on me too soon. Wincing, I adjusted my posture until I was mildly comfortable.

I leaned back and froze when I caught the soldier staring at me with wide, horror-filled eyes.

"Does," he said, "does that hurt you?"

I paused. I looked away. "No, not too much. I'm okay."

"I'm sorry."

I shrugged a shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah," he said. "It is."

"Because letting those other guys have at me would've been the noble thing to do?"

"You wouldn't have even been in there if I hadn't gotten them angry! They only did this because they knew it'd get to me. And you know what? It worked. I'm not running again. I can't even die at this point. I mean, what happens if they catch me trying to off myself? They going to make me rape a kid next time? These guys don't have limits. They're not even human."

"They're monsters," I said quietly.

The word hurt. Rape. That was something monsters did. Somehow, I felt that was exactly what was racing through this man's head. It had been racing through his head since he'd stumbled into this dungeon with me. It had probably been racing through his head before he'd even…

"You're not one of them," I said.

He closed his eyes like he was shutting out the world. I reached out and touched his shoulder. I was surprised for a moment that he let me do it. He was completely still, though. He was clearly determined not to be affected.

I let my hand rest on his back. "Listen to me, and don't you dare argue. We're both victims here. You're just the one who had to make the hard choice. That man who made you do it was the one who kidnapped me from the train yesterday and I'm fairly certain I was headed toward some kind of brothel before I got redirected to you, so…"

"Where were you going?" he said.

I blinked. "Um, what?"

His eyes opened sluggishly to stare at the ceiling. "You were taken from a train, you said. Where were you going?"

"Oh." I played with my nails. "I was on my way to Aerugo. I had to take a pretty strange route. Tickets were pricey for a direct trip and I didn't see any point in paying for it. I don't mind transfers and all that. Guess I didn't take into account how many shady areas I'd be passing through."

"Aerugo?" he said. "Kind of a shady area in itself. Why were you going there, if you don't mind me asking? You got family?"

"I'm taking a gap year," I said. "I just graduated high school and I wanted to try volunteering a little before I get my nose back in the books going for careers and that kind of thing."

"A do-gooder?" he said. He frowned. "Damn it. You don't belong here at all."

I could kind of tell he'd meant that statement to be kind, but it hurt even so. "Well, who would belong in a place like this?"

He raised his eyebrows. "To tell you the truth, up until now, I've been through a lot worse."

I stared at him for a moment, remembering earlier when he'd dodged my questions about the military.

"You went through worse," I said, "in battles or something?"

"You just graduated, right?" he said. He smiled slightly. "Guess we're the same age."

I blinked. He'd thrown me off again. "Wait, what? I'm eighteen."

He nodded. "Same."

"No, you're not," I said, eyeing his uniform. "You're a State Alchemist."

"Yeah."

"You were certified your first year in the military?" I said. My eyes widened. "That's insane! You must be amazing! I thought you were at least early twenties." My face felt warm. This was disorienting. How had someone like him been contained like this? How was he so helpless?

"My name's Edward, by the way," he said.

I looked over. He lifted his hand from his knees like he would put it out to me, but then he thought better of it and folded his hands around his legs. I put my hand out to him. He looked at it for a moment before carefully taking it and giving it a gentle shake. I held harder before he could pull away and shook his hand back firmly. I released him. He hunched his shoulders, eyes down. It was like he was afraid he'd break me. Break me more than he already had.

"I'm Winry," I said. "Winry Rockbell. Nice to meet you, Edward."

"Yeah," he said. "Um, you too."

I sighed to myself. I'd told him my shattered plans pretty freely. He didn't seem like he was even close to returning the favor. That was understandable. He was a State Alchemist. There was no telling what he'd seen in his short time in the military. Even so, after what he'd done to me in that closet, what we'd done, knowing him as a little less of a stranger would've been comforting.

I scooted onto my side and curled up with my spine against the wall. My eyelids dropped shut. From what Edward had said, it sounded like we'd be in this prison together for some time. There was no point in interrogating him. As rattled and affected as I was by what had just happened, he actually seemed doubly traumatized. I'd said it somewhat casually, but it was gravely true. We'd both been victims. He'd shoulder the weight of the decision.

…

Edward yelled in his sleep. It woke me up in the middle of my own nightmare that I realized quickly probably hadn't been as bad as the one Edward was going through. Usually, my first reaction would've been to go to his aid, but as my eyes opened to darkness and felt the harsh reminder of my aching pelvis rotating against the stony prison floor, I found myself hyperventilating instead.

I covered my ears and curled back up on my side. Stop it. Make it stop! Frantic tears burned hot on my face as my body quaked enough to make my stomach hurt.

"Don't go!" Edward screamed. "It's not safe!"

I felt their hands, their hot, calloused hands. Weaving, pulling, yanking, forcing! Holding me down! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it, please!

I flinched away. Cool fingers left my face for a moment before slowly coming back to brush the tears from my cheek. I shivered and cried as Edward's silvery silhouette hovered at my side. I instinctively took his hand at my cheek and gripped it like he'd already threatened to leave.

"Sorry," he said. "You're going to have to get used to that."

"Are you okay?" I said between sobs.

He let out a melancholy laugh. I guessed my inquiry had sounded a little pathetic, but what else was I supposed to do? He held my hand just a little tighter.

"Yeah, Winry," he said. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

"Want to talk about it?" I said.

"So, how've you been sleeping?" he said. "Good enough?"

"Good enough."

I caught the pale movement of a nod in the moonlight. "No nightmares?"

"Not too bad," I said. I sniffled. "I'm fine."

"Right," he said. "Okay. Good."

His voice was so stiff all the sudden, like he was restraining what he wanted to say. It suddenly occurred to me what he might've wanted to ask.

"You weren't the villain, Edward," I said softly.

A mild quiver ran through his grip. "Right. Well, I just…"

"It's okay," I said.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Well, I think I'm just going to go back to sleep. By the look of the sky, I don't have too long, so…yeah, okay. You good here?"

"Can you stay?" I tightened my grasp on his hand.

"Um, sure," he said. "No problem." He scooted back against the wall beside me, but remained sitting. "Hey, um, don't mind me, okay? I just…I get a little jumpy first thing up. Nothing to get nervous about."

"I'm not nervous," I said. Though, it did make sense.

He seemed to settle and his hand fell limp in mine. I considered just letting him sleep.

"Hey, Edward?" I said.

"Hm?"

"You said," I paused, "that you didn't have very long. By the look of the sky? Are they coming back to take you somewhere in the morning?"

"No, not really," he said. "Don't worry. They'll do it here."

"Do what?"

He sighed. "Um…can we not talk about it?"

I took a breath. It was unexpected, having a question blatantly shot down when he usually went for passive aversion.

"Edward," I said. "What are they going to do to you?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then, speaking thinly, he said, "I don't know yet."

…

I woke up with Edward's broad hand clamped over my mouth. I found myself screaming against it like an uncontrollable impulse and felt my cheeks burn when I wised up enough to stop. Edward looked down at me nervously. Daybreak's light bounced off his tied gold hair like a halo. His skin was pale, emphasizing the purple bruise down the side of his face. He was visibly panting with what looked like panic, but he kept his breath quiet in spite of it. His eyes darted back and forth from me to the door. I realized for a heart-stopping moment that the metal door at the top of the stairs was rattling. Edward spoke to me under his breath.

"No matter what happens," he said, "you stay out of the way."

He took his hand off my mouth and stood like his legs would barely hold him. As the door creaked to open, I watched Edward ball his fists and will himself to stand steady. He stood in front of me like a dog guarding its home.

"Promise me," he said.

"I promise."

It was sick how easily the words came out of my mouth, but he looked over his shoulder at me like he was proud of me for it. He nodded once. He turned back to the door as it swung wide. I counted as the men filed in. Tall, broad-shouldered monsters. Five yawning, scratching monsters. I propped myself up and pressed up against the wall. I felt my breath catch. My heart pounded. The monsters came down the stairs like a mob. Edward took a strong step forward and they stopped in front of him. I was glad. I didn't want them anywhere near me. One of the men, a taller one, stepped toe-to-toe with Edward. The man looked decently older than the others with his shaved head and weathered skin, maybe mid-forties. He had a deathly shine in his green eyes that made my stomach flop.

"Whatever you want, Jones," said Edward, "I'll give it to you. Just leave the girl alone."

The man looked to the side and put his a finger to his chin, a mocking gesture. He nodded. "Yeah. I think we can manage that."

"I don't have my alchemy," Edward said.

"Yeah," said Jones. "Figured that out."

I watched Edward's fists clench tighter at his sides. "I have some ideas on how to fix that."

Jones smiled. "Oh, I'm counting on it." Edward's fists trembled in little jerks as Jones turned to his four lackeys and said, "Well, let's get started, shall we?"

…

I tried to hide my eyes. I tried. But Edward's fragmented groans from across the room followed by rough, apathetic voices was too disturbing to listen to on its own. I peeked every few seconds. They stuck syringes into him and drew fluids like they were imaging what it would be like to suck the life out of him. I watched them cut sections of flesh from his arm without any kind of anesthesia to dull the pain and Edward just clenched his teeth and stifled his own groans. When they left, they took the samples and a pint of his blood with them. Jones ruffled his hair and called him a good boy on his way out.

…

I was over to Edward the moment the door shut. This was bad. There was blood. I saw blood!

Edward rolled onto his side, reaching for his shirt just an arm's length away. He retracted his hand with a scowl and held his bleeding shoulder like it caused him pain to stretch it.

"Damn!" he said. "That stings to hell!" He continued to grumble to himself as he struggled to sit up. "Damn it. I get blood, but spinal fluid? What's that got to do with anything?"

I dropped next to him and steadied him by the elbows. Last I'd checked, spinal taps messed with balance. "Just be glad they didn't go for bone marrow. They weren't exactly being gentle."

"Had worse," he said.

I held him back from trying to sit up the rest of the way. "Just lay still for a while. Give your body time to adjust."

He looked me in the eye. "I've had worse."

My grip on his elbows loosened. Under the bruise on his face, just over his eye, I noticed the thin scar. My gaze dropped to the rest of his body. I felt my shoulders tighten. Most of them were light, but his skin was practically dappled with old scars. Some looked clean, some jagged and raised. He'd had worse.

Edward pulled away from me and flopped back on the floor with a frustrated sigh. "Can you just give me my shirt?"

"I…um, yeah, sure."

I passed him the button-down shirt, sneaking one last glance at his body. I could tell from the cut of his muscles that he was strong, but his flesh was marred enough to make me wonder how he was still alive. It made no sense. He'd only been in the military a year, if that much. How had one man managed to get himself into that much trouble in that amount of time? The scars were so faded. There was just no way they were all that recent. I was beginning to wonder if any were recent.

"I'm tired," said Edward. "Don't freak out if the door opens again. It's probably just food drop-off. Just keep quiet until they're gone and save some for me if you can."

His eyes drooped closed. The way he was laying there, pale from blood loss and flushed with pain, he looked like a sick child. I put my hand on his head.

"Edward?" I said. "How long have you been here?"

His eyelid cracked open. He looked over at the far wall. "Five days. I keep track over there."

I squinted to the dark corner where he'd directed his gaze and thought I caught some faint etches in the stone.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" I said.

"Don't know," he said. "Forever, I guess."

I swallowed hard. "So, what you said about your alchemy being gone, it was true?"

He nodded slowly.

"How?" I said. "How is that even possible?"

"I retired from service," he said. "The military makes you sign a release form when you get certified. If you get out, you leave your alchemy behind."

"I…" My breath shook. "I didn't know that."

"Well," said Edward, "neither did I. They put that bit in pretty fine print, but there it is. Served their stupid military six goddamned years, cleaned up all their goddamned messes one after the other, and here I am in the bottom of some crap-hole that sucked me up because some moron recognized my uniform. Thank you, Amestris. I appreciate this very much."

"Six years?" I said. "You're eighteen."

"Yeah, how about that?"

"Six years?"

He shut his eyes. "Can we do this another time?"

I paused. I drew my hand away from his head, feeling a tremor run through me. What was this? What was he trying to say? That he'd been certified before he was even a teenager? God, there was so much blood! His arm was bleeding right through his shirt. My eyes stung. My lungs struggled to breathe. Forever. He'd said we'd be in this place forever. Had he meant it? He'd meant it, hadn't he? He'd meant it when he'd told me he'd never try to run again.

"Hey, Winry?" Edward said. His hand touched mine on the stone floor and he looked up at me with eyes strained with exhaustion. "Hey, Winry, you okay? I…I didn't mean to be harsh. I'm sorry. Please don't cry. I'm really sorry."

"What's going on?" I said. "I don't understand."

Edward's face sank. "Do you want to know that badly?"

I sniffled, nodding. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I don't even know who you are."

He swallowed. "Okay. But," he closed his eyes and frowned, "maybe later?"

He took fast breaths. I realized as his hand slackened over mine that he was probably in the process of blacking out.

"Okay," I said quickly.

Edward's lids opened in slits to look up at me one more time before his eyes rolled back and his breath became shallow with involuntary sleep.

…

When the food was dropped off, it took me until after I'd already wolfed down all but half a piece of bread before I remembered Edward's request for me to hold some back for him.

…

Edward panted into his hand. He'd been doing this for a few minutes. I assumed he was recovering from a nightmare, but it wasn't like he was talking about it. He'd yelled in his sleep like he was being tortured. I wondered if he ever woke up without bolting from a bad dream. I wondered how long it had been like that for him.

"Um," he said, "did they bring the food? I'm…I'm a little thirsty. It's kind of late, isn't it?"

I sighed a breath of relief at the word 'thirsty.' Water was one thing I hadn't consumed the better part of. I handed him the wooden bowl, trying not to slosh. Edward took it with shaking hands.

"They feed us like dogs, huh?" I said. "Bowls for food and water."

"Mm." Edward gulped. "Pretty standard for prisons. Bowls are more common in wood than cups. Doesn't break as easy."

"Really?" I said. "You have experience with that kind of thing?"

"Kind of," he said. "Not really. I got captured on purpose a couple times a while back. Picked stuff up along the way."

"On soldier missions?"

He snorted. "_Soldier missions_?"

I saw the look on his face and felt my cheeks turn warm. He was smirking, clearly holding back laughter.

"Was that wrong?" I said.

"Soldier missions," he chuckled. "I like that. Okay, yeah. I got purposely captured on soldier missions."

As I watched him laugh, I found myself feeling less embarrassed. I hadn't heard him laugh like this in the short time we'd known each other. He wasn't making fun of me. More like fond amusement.

"How old were you?" I said. "On the 'soldier missions,' I mean?"

His laughter died. "Does it matter?"

I looked away and played with the ends of my yellow ponytail. I listened to him breathing. Slow and steady. When he took a quick, sharp breath, the change in pace was enough to startle me.

"Fine," he said. "Fine, I'll tell you. I said I would, so I will. Just give me a minute, okay? I don't know what to say."

The tenseness I saw building in his shoulders and features practically radiated from him onto me, making my heart race. What was it? What had happened to him? For a split moment, I wondered if I really did want to know, but it was too late. He spoke.

"I didn't grow up in the best home environment," he began. He folded his hands and rested his chin on his knees. "My dad was a rough guy and my mom was pretty co-dependent, wouldn't even try to look out for herself, so I spent most of my childhood locked in my house trying to distract the old man from her and my little brother. That's where most of the scars came from. I saw you looking at them earlier. Only a few are actually from soldier missions."

I swallowed. Seriously?

"Anyway," he said. "Forget that. Mom died when I was ten and Dad took off the same day, so I had to do stuff to take care of my brother. You know, basic stuff. He'd go to school like always and I'd worry about food. After about a year, we ran out of stuff to sell. I started going further off the property doing odd jobs for people to earn money. I was pretty young. Not much in the ways of muscle, so I used alchemy to do repairs. I think that's got to be how the Colonel found me."

"How'd you know alchemy?" I said. "If you don't mind me asking. I thought people had to go to certified masters to even learn the basics."

He shrugged. "Dad had a lot of alchemy textbooks lying around his office. Pretty sure he didn't have a license, but it's not like he ever talked to me about it. I never really went to school. That was Al's thing. I read books. Didn't want my mom home alone with that man."

"Al," I said. "That was your brother's name?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah, well, his full name's Alphonse, but it's kind of a mouthful."

"Guess so," I said. I bit my lip. "Listen, Edward, if you don't want to talk about this part, I understand. I'm sorry. I had no idea what I was asking. You can just skip to how you entered the military."

He blinked. "Um, thanks. This is pretty important background information, actually. Trust me. I wouldn't bring it up if it wasn't."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry."

Edward shook his head, eyes on the floor in front of him. He was still jumpy from waking up and obviously bothered by what he was having to explain, but there was an underlying stability in him. It was like layers of tragedy and fear had accumulated over time and hardened into an unbreakable floor he could stand on no matter where he was in body or mind.

My mind flashed to my mother and father standing with my grandmother in front of our house on a hill, blue shutters lining the tall windows, open to let the breeze and sunlight in. Suddenly, my life seemed disgustingly easy.

"Your Mom died," I said. "Your Dad left. And you took over? Why didn't anyone take you in? Didn't you have family you could've gone to?"

Edward frowned. "I told you about the kind of people my parents were. You really think they were the type to maintain relationships with relatives? They barely maintained a relationship with each other."

"But you had neighbors, right? Someone should've helped you. You were just kids!"

"Hey, calm down," he said. "It wasn't like that. Jeez, most of my 'neighbors' lived over a mile away. Took Al half an hour just to walk to the schoolhouse every morning. No one knew what went on in our house. I got out so little that people around town hardly even knew who I was. It wasn't anyone's fault but mine. I was a little messed up. I didn't really know to ask for help when things got bad. Hadn't had the best experience with adults in the past. Wasn't interested in inviting more into my life."

My breath hitched. I swallowed down the sob in my chest. Something told me Edward wasn't one to enjoy being cried for.

"Don't," he said. "Don't be upset, okay? It's not that big a deal."

I nodded, not agreeing with him, but giving him permission to continue. Edward nodded back.

"What was I saying?" he said.

"You ran out of things to sell?" I said. "And you were doing odd jobs with alchemy."

"Right," he said. "Well, I was just a kid, so I got cheated out of money all the time. Made next to nothing after a whole day working, but still. Someone must've been impressed behind the tight wallet, because some big-shot Colonel in Central heard rumors about me. You ever hear of Roy Mustang?"

I racked my brain, honestly wishing it rang a bell. Finally, I shook my head. "I grew up in the countryside. We don't get much in the ways of politics all the way out there."

"Yeah, no kidding." Edward chuckled. "I was the same way. I tell you, Mustang looked pretty insulted when he showed up to my door and I didn't know who he was. Or care, for that matter." Edward sighed. "Colonel Roy Mustang. He wasn't a Colonel yet back then. He didn't get that promotion until after I joined his team, which was exactly the point, as far as he was concerned. He was certified himself in his early twenties. It was a new concept back then for a commanding officer to have more than one State Alchemist on his team. One of us should be enough to make up our own team, really. With Mustang already certified, he got it in his head to certify another State Alchemist under him, some new blood to peak the higher-ups' interest."

"So," I said. "He certified a child?"

"Pretty much," Edward said nonchalantly. "I mean, he regretted it later for sure once he started having to send me into battles with the others, but at the time? Mustang was kind of a kid himself. Having a child alchemist under his command was a novelty. Seemed like a good idea to him."

"That's stupid!"

"Yeah," said Edward. "Mustang's not my favorite person either."

"Why'd you say yes?" I said. "Did you need money? Was that it?"

Edward leaned against the wall heavily. His eyes looked up to the window and stared at the golden afternoon sky. He blinked.

"Al was sick," he said. "Not too much to handle at first. I sent Mustang on his way after he stopped by without a second thought. I paid for cough and fever medicine just fine with the money I earned from working as long as I didn't eat too much. The next year, though, around the time I turned twelve, Al got really bad." Edward hugged his arms. "I was scared he'd die, so I carried him to the local hospital. They got him breathing and did all kinds of tests on him. Turned out he had some kind of terminal illness, some kind of cancer I'd let get out of hand. They said he needed to be moved to a better facility where he could be treated. They kept asking about parents and insurance and I guess I just panicked. I found Mustang's business card where I'd stuffed it in some drawer and called him up about all those career benefits he'd talked about when he'd been describing the State Alchemist program to me. He mentioned healthcare for dependents and I was in. No questions asked."

"Twelve years old," I said softly.

"I think he planned on me being some kind of mascot," Edward said. "Do his paperwork for him and look good for the higher-ups. Then the second war in Aerugo broke out and guess who's team got sent to the front lines the first week?"

"You were twelve?"

"Honestly?" said Edward. "I did better out there than most of the full grown men."

"You killed people?"

Edward smiled. He seemed eerily proud of himself. He spoke and I realized why. "I was good enough not to have to, actually. I did break a lot of kneecaps, though. Had to make sure the enemy never came back once I'd defeated them. Cripple's better than dead, I guess."

"I'm sure their families would agree with that," I said.

"Thank you!" Ed said. He sat up straighter and met my eyes. "See, that's exactly what I said! It's about time someone agreed with me! Jeez, you have no idea how many officers I've had to talk down from a total freak out because I refused to kill anyone. I signed up to be a human weapon, not a human annihilator."

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "You act more like a human shield, if you ask me, Ed."

He simmered down. His eyes rested gently on me and his mouth curved into a light smile. "Human shield?" He chuckled. "I like the sound of that almost as much as 'soldier missions.'"

My smile held for a while then fell. I looked at my shoes. "You haven't had an easy life, Edward."

"It's been fine," he said. "Al got the treatment he needed. He was always there when I got to come home to visit. That's all that mattered to me. I just had to make it six years before I was eligible for retirement benefits, and I did that. Even if I'm not there, Al will still be able to take it easy and get care if he needs it. They finally have him in remission, so I got nothing to worry about. He'll be fine."

I fiddled with my thumbs. "That's not really what I meant."

"Hey, um, do we have any food left?" He put his hand on his stomach. "My guts are starting to churn."

"Oh," I said. My face warmed. "Sure thing. I, uh…"

He put out his hand. I reached behind me and handed the chewed-off half slice of bread. Pitiful. I couldn't even meet Edward's eyes as I passed it to him. He took it in silence. Didn't say a single word. I listened to him chew and swallow. He ate slowly.

"Sorry," I said, finally. "I got carried away. Just forgot for a moment."

I looked up to see him shaking his head contentedly. "No, this is fine. I lived off nothing but watered down instant potatoes for two years. I can get by on plenty less. Don't worry about it."

"Instant potatoes?" I said.

"You know?" he said. "Like, that powdery stuff that comes in a box? You mix it half and half with hot milk and it turns into mashed potatoes? I skipped the milk and did it with double water instead. Pretty gross, but it was cheap and it kept me from dying, so who cares?" He made a face. "It really was gross, though."

"You lived off of powdered potatoes?" I said. "For two years? How are you still alive?"

He shrugged. "I think food companies fortify that crap with vitamins or something. You know, cheap food with not much nutritional value on its own? They do that to keep lazy people alive."

"But still," I said. "You must've felt sick all the time eating nothing but powdered potatoes." I caught the look on his face. I backed off. "Sorry. Guess you didn't have much choice, huh?"

"It's fine," he said. "You're taking this pretty well compared to Mustang and his guys. Jeez. I didn't know what the hell they were getting so bothered about. I mean, Mustang didn't exactly fly off the handle, but my first year, the guy looked like he'd crack every time I caught his eye. It scared the crap out of me. I thought something was really wrong. Turns out everyone who'd heard the rumors felt bad for me, and that was it. Enough to get me looked at like a walking charity case for months before it started dying down. Actually, I'm not sure those bastards really ever got over it. Like I said, Mustang regretted putting me in the military pretty soon after he'd done it."

"Did you regret it?" I asked.

Edward shook his head. "Not until yesterday, no."

I hugged my legs together. "You're brave."

"Think so?" he said. "By the world's standards, I guess. Really, I was born into less than favorable circumstances from the start. Shit happened no matter what I did. The easy road was the one that involved my brother not dying, so that's the one I took. I'd say bravery had nothing to do with it. Just a side effect of doing what I wanted, if you're really that convinced."

"So, how did you get here?" I said.

He frowned. "After they took my alchemy, I decided I didn't want to see their damn faces again. I stopped by the hospice my brother was staying at and told him we were going to get out of Central. He was still pretty weak, though, so I figured it'd be stupid to move him without our own car. Too many germs on a train. Too much hassle with Al still in a wheelchair. One of the nurses told me there was a guy in Creta who sold used handicap-friendly vehicles for fair prices and she gave me his number. I headed in that direction the same day. Didn't even bother stopping off at home to change out of my uniform. Some rookies from this place recognized the badge at the station when I was making a transfer and that was that. I doubt they realized how stupid they were being coming at me like they did. There were maybe ten at most. If I'd had my alchemy, things would've turned out very differently."

"Do you," I said, "enjoy hurting people?"

"About as much as I enjoy watered down instant potatoes."

I felt my face flush. That had been a stupid question. Almost insulting.

"I'd enjoy hurting Mustang about now," Edward added. "Bastard. He left out some pretty important details the day he tried to recruit me, that's for sure."

"Edward?" I said.

"Yeah?" he said. He waited for me to speak. I looked away. He said it again. "Yeah?"

"Why are you here?" My voice sounded small. "How did they…how did you _lose_ your alchemy?"

Edward breathed shakily. "Well," he said. "I'm not really sure how it happened. They did a good job of blurring it; otherwise I might have a better idea of how to reverse it. I was in the Fuhrer's main conference room saying final goodbyes and somewhere in the midst of that there was a flash of white light. When I woke up, I was sitting across the table from Mustang and my whole body ached like I had the flu or something. The bastard told me what had happened, how it had been unavoidable, how it would've been unethical for him to let me leave with the kind of power I had. Then he sent me on my merry way and, sure enough, I couldn't transmute for anything."

"White light knocking you out?" I said. "Sounds a little frightening."

"What's frightening is I don't remember what happened. Maybe I didn't pass out. Maybe I was awake the whole time. I'll probably never know. My best guess, though, is it was done by some kind of transmutation circle. They must've had it marked under the carpet where I couldn't see it and Mustang probably activated it as soon as I stepped onto it. In that case, I don't know what there is to do about it. I was good at what I did, but a matrix that takes away alchemy? That's something I've never even heard of. I wouldn't know how to begin to figure that one out."

"But that's what these men want," I said. "For you to recover your alchemy, right? I don't understand. What are a bunch of tests going to do? Wouldn't it be easier just to teach them what you know? If you regain alchemy yourself, you'll just turn on them."

"No," he said. "I won't."

I paused. That was right. He wasn't running again, no matter what.

"Look, Winry," he said. "There are a lot of things that haven't been released to the public, okay? A lot. Like what happens to State Alchemists who retire, for example. The fact that I even brought it up is enough to have me Court Marshaled and executed for treason."

I gulped.

"But underground organizations like this," he said, "this black market shit, they have ears in places we don't even know about. A number of years ago, there were reports of an atypical case where an alchemist transferred his alchemic abilities to his brother by amputating his brother's right arm and replacing it with his own."

My stomach tightened. Edward recited gruesome scenarios like this like he was reading off a grocery list.

"No training," said Edward. "No studying. No experience or master's guidance needed. The alchemist's brother had never touched alchemy in his life, but after receiving that arm, he was able to use his right hand to transmute like a master. He became State Alchemist level in the course of five minutes. Forget me teaching these guys what I know. If they get my alchemy back for me, there won't be any teaching needed."

I inhaled sharply. "They want to take your arms?"

"I'm sure they'll go for my legs, too."

"No!" I said. "That's not fair!"

He raised his eyebrows like I was nuts. "Since when was life fair?"

"Edward!"

"Winry," he said. His hand gripped my shoulder. His eyes met mine, his expression pained. "What's getting angry going to do?" He released me and looked away. "Just pretend it isn't happening. Works for me."

The sun's golden light on the walls had turned a deeper, richer color. The afternoon was melting into evening. I watched Edward lace his fingers through his hair and pull the tie from his ponytail. The golden tresses fell around his face like curtains. His eyes became heavier. It was like he was wrapping his head around something he didn't want to think about. I remembered his scarred body and muffled groans. How much had those needles and scalpels really hurt? Just how much had he been muffling?

I sniffled. "You don't cry very much, do you?"

He hugged his knees and said, "No."

I reached over and took his hand. "You don't like it?"

He waited a moment. "I'm afraid to."

I squeezed his hand. He pulled away and laid down with his back to me.

"I'm going to just," he shivered, "go back to sleep."

He really did look like a child. A terrified, exhausted child. His long hair resting in wisps over his bruised face made him seem angelically tragic. I patted his elbow gently and leaned back against the wall to rest my eyes.

"Sorry," his voice muttered.

As tears welled up in my eyes, I began to wonder if he'd ever stop saying that.

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**I'll probably be updating in spurts (sorry, but FL2 takes priority right now). Replies to reviews will be in PMs because it's easier. Thanks for reading!**


	2. All Wrong

**A/N: I kind of published this thing in a hurry with half my brain a week ago, so I redid the summary and rating just now, if anyone's wondering what the heck happened there. I consider rape pretty mature content and this plot kind of revolves around it, so that's why the rating's so high.**

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Chapter Two: All Wrong

I curled up against the wall. It wasn't in the same terror I'd had two weeks ago. I was tired and I knew to stay out of the way. That was all. My eyes rested loosely on Edward and the monsters crowded around him. I never planned on looking, but I always ended up doing it anyway.

They continued the pointless tests and procedures like they'd been doing every morning for fifteen days. Edward had told me there was no point in it, how unlikely it was that his stunted alchemy was physiological in the slightest. He'd told me he was fairly certain Jones was aware of that. The hulking man was just following orders. He really didn't seem to care to what end. Edward seemed to hold some kind of strange respect for that.

Somewhere over the course of the second week, Edward and Jones had started to exchange light conversation during the procedures. It had started with Edward asking what the heck the weather was doing outside our window. All we got was varied sun and moonlight and slight temperature changes. Jones had been more amused that Ed had asked than offended and had struck up a conversation about how military prisons were even less accommodating than illegal prisons. Edward had agreed wholeheartedly and they'd picked up the conversation the next morning talking about how the only difference between soldiers and criminals was the former did the dirty work with a license. Edward seemed as sincere about it as he was amused.

I'd finally asked Edward about his choice in befriending the man who planned on taking his arms and legs. Edward had just shrugged and said, "Just another bastard following orders. At least Jones has the decency to warn me before he screws me over."

One of Jones's monsters jabbed a thick needle deep into Edward's knee. I saw Edward shutting his eyes. A grunt almost too restrained to hear made it through his clenched teeth. Jones spoke over it like it wasn't even happening.

"We're thinking about selling our girls to some traffickers at the eastern border." Jones's version of small talk. "Brothels are good business, but too high profile for what we're trying to do."

"Not into that shit," Ed said breathlessly.

Jones laughed. "Can't have morals in a world like ours, Elric."

"Screw morals, then," said Ed. "It's a stupid business move, no matter how you look at it. Mustang's posted east. You stir up relations with anything shady over there and he'll shut you down so fast you won't know what happened."

"That so?" said Jones. He looked intrigued. "I'll have to let Roberts check that. You don't mess with the Flame Alchemist, no matter what the money is."

"Don't sell the girls," said Edward. He winced through an injection. "Forget prostitution. Put them to work. Know what's good business? Efficiency. Experience. Well-organized missions. You need to slow down and go for quality instead of expansion. I've shut down entire branches of underground groups like this using nothing but their own shortcomings to bring them down. Teach the girls to clean weapons and take inventory. Get the ones you trust to go undercover for smuggling operations. An unsuspecting young lady's going to attract a lot less attention than a walking tank with murder in his eyes. You don't need to downsize. You need to put your people to good use for once."

I sucked in a breath. I'd heard Edward warn Jones about things, but never give advice. Not like this. It seemed…forward. But Jones didn't look put-off. He looked stunned. He blinked his acid eyes and nodded in all seriousness.

"I'll take that to heart," Jones said. He continued with the needles.

To heart? That was an odd thing to say. For a man like him to mention his heart. It was unprofessional, as strange as that sounded.

Jones told Edward, "Good boy," on his way out with the others, same as any other day.

Ed sat up sluggishly. I'd stopped trying to tell him to take it easy every time they left. He took it easy when he saw fit. I came over and dropped to my knees beside him. He winced and suddenly seemed to think better of going upright. He leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the ceiling.

"Damn it," he muttered. "What the hell did they put into me? It burns."

"You going to be okay?" I said.

"Not vomiting," he said. "That's a good sign." No kidding. He'd come close a few times the past couple weeks. "I'm still awake. Also good. I'll be fine. You? You're looking better."

"Well, I'm not hungry. That probably helps."

We'd tried splitting our daily rations fifty-fifty, but my aching hunger had gradually shifted into queasiness and Edward hadn't had to think twice to start giving up part of his share to make up the difference.

"You didn't answer my question," he said. "Are you feeling better, Winry?"

"Yes," I said. "Thanks. I'm tired, but that's about it."

"Good," he said. "Because, you have to tell me if you think you're getting sick. This is a bad place for you to let yourself get ill."

The concern in his eyes kind of made me want to smile. "I'm fine, Ed. Just worry about you for a while. If you strain yourself, who's going to look after me if I do get sick?"

Ed laughed a little. "Sounds like something Hawkeye would say."

"Hawkeye?" I said.

"Mustang's right-hand girl," he said. "Remember? The coolheaded one?"

"With no soul?" I said.

Edward laughed. "Hey, that was just a joke between some of the guys, okay? I told you I didn't buy it. I'd say she felt a lot more than she showed."

"I thought you said you were scared she'd shoot anyone who made fun of her. That's why you never joined in."

"That too."

"You seem to have an easy time making friends," I said.

He knit his brow at me. "What? That's not true at all. Where'd that come from?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just listening to you, I guess. Sounds like you had a lot of friends before you wound up here. You're a straight-talker and people like that. Jones does."

Ed raised his eyebrows. "I'm not usually this talkative, you know? I just tell you things because you said it was important to you and you'll probably be the last to hear it, so there's nothing to lose. I'm not open at all. Jones is just fun because we hate the same things."

"I didn't mean people like you because you pour your heart out," I said. "You speak plainly. That's all."

"Oh," he said. "You talking about what I said about the prostitutes? Yeah, Jones walked right into that one. These idiots have been killing their organization trying to hang onto every kind of business they can grab. They started off specializing in illegal weapons manufacturing. It's fine to expand a little, but don't forget what got you where you are. Would've been a pretty lousy of me not to bring it up when I had the chance, you know?"

"He seemed to really be listening to you," I said. "Jones has a lot of authority in this place. If he's able to put your advice into being, there are going to be a lot of girls with you to thank."

Edward frowned and looked away. He didn't speak. Not the reaction I'd expected.

"That's why you spoke up, right?" I said. "You told Jones to put the girls to work because you didn't like the idea of them living out their lives as objects."

"It's better business anyway," said Edward. "Who cares why I said it?"

I cracked a smile. "You're a big softie."

Ed rolled his eyes at me and looked over at the wall where he and I usually sat around and did nothing. "Can you help me over? I feel kind of crappy. Don't like falling asleep with my back exposed."

I stood and put my hand out to him. It had come out gradually since we'd been in the dungeon together. Edward liked having his back to the wall anytime he felt unable to keep his guard up. He'd spent the first part of his life guarding from his abusive father and he'd spent the second part guarding from enemy fire. Needless to say, Edward was a firm believer in the saying about there being no such thing as too careful.

"Hey, Ed?" I said as we sank against the cold stone together.

He dragged his hand over his face and yawned. "Mm? What is it, Winry?"

"About Jones," I said. "Are you making friends with him so he'll maybe let us go?"

Edward looked at me with confusion in his eyes. "I'm 'making friends' with him because friends are easier to deal with than enemies. You realize Jones is only second in command around here, right? He even thinks about setting us loose and Roberts will kill him without a bit of hesitation."

"So," I said. "We're really going to die in here?"

Ed shrugged a shoulder. "I will for sure. I'm betting on you outliving me, though. Maybe you'll find yourself cleaning weapons and taking inventory with the other girls someday. Who knows? You may even be promoted to smuggling jobs if you play your cards right. That won't be so bad."

He actually sounded like he honest to God felt that way.

I curled up. "Hm. You think they'd ever let me go home to see Granny and my parents for a few hours during one of those missions?"

"Depends who you're working for," said Edward in his simple way. "Roberts? Probably not, but he's not going to live forever. The next guy in charge might just show a little leniency if you make yourself trustworthy, especially if Jones is still around to succeed Roberts when the time comes. Jones is at least willing to listen."

"I see." I smiled. "Well, I'll take that to heart."

Edward closed his eyes wearily and sighed through his nose. "Very funny. Go ahead and make fun of the only semi-decent person we've met in this place."

I chuckled and watched Edward shift on the floor to sleep. He slept all the time, it seemed; more and more as the days went by. He slept more than I did. It made sense with all the poking and prodding he had to go through every morning, but still. He looked too strong to get so sick after some blood loss and a few needles. Maybe I was just expecting too much from him because of my own fear. Edward wasn't the only one afraid to be left unprotected.

I shivered and scooted closer to Edward's sleeping form. I never stopped feeling vulnerable in this place. The moment I heard his sleeping breaths was the moment I became too alert to function. The simple whisper of a breeze passing through the barred opening was enough to startle me into crying some days.

I leaned my head back and watched Edward sleep with his breaths barely visible enough to tell he was alive. It was sad. He didn't seem to mind being in discomfort half as much as I did. My weakness and exhaustion had numbed my complaints, but Edward was quiet more out of choice than inability to react.

"Mom," he slurred in his sleep. "Where…where's Al?"

His voice made me jump in my skin even though I'd known it was coming. I covered my mouth to quiet my startled breaths. This was how Ed slept, I'd learned. First, he'd drift into long, weary breaths. Then the muttering would start. It would eventually build up to yelling and he'd bolt up and hyperventilate for at least ten minutes before even acknowledging my presence. He'd go back to sleep as soon as he'd calmed himself down and he'd repeat the cycle until he had the energy to stay awake long-term. He'd act like it was normal to sleep in fitful spurts.

'It's fine,' he'd told me after a nightmare days ago. 'It's always been like this.'

So, we were in the muttering stages right now.

"Told you not to…" he said, "go. Don't go."

I reached some fingers out and stroked his bangs from his eyes. He looked so pale, his skin ill and milky. He was too knocked out to even react to my touch. I could tell he was dreaming about his childhood and his father. Occasionally, the dreams would shift to his time on the battlefield, and those were the dreams he yelled loudest through.

"No," he mumbled. "No…I can't do it."

And then there were the scarcer times when he'd start reliving what had happened in the closet.

"Just let her go."

It was one nightmare we had in common.

"Winry? I…can't."

It was the nightmare I could barely stand to listen to without breaking down.

"No…please, no!" His breathing picked up. "I can't! Winry?"

I reached down and grabbed one of his hands tightly in mine. "Ed?"

"So sorry!"

"Ed! Wake up!"

"I'm so sorry!"

I shook his arm and all it took was a few good shakes for his eyes to flash open. His whole body flinched in his skin as he found himself staring up at me. I sniffled.

"I forgive you, Ed." My hands trembled around his. "I know you're sorry. I forgive you."

His breathing was choppy. He lay there staring up at me like he was paralyzed.

I swallowed. "I forgive you, Ed."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No."

"I do," I said. "I forgive you. I'm okay, Ed."

Edward jerked his hand away. "Stop it! Just shut up!"

He winced as he sat up. I put my hand on his arm on impulse. He shrugged me off, shaking his head again. He pressed his face to his knees and panted, just like he always did after waking up. The rejection hit me harder than usual this time. I flinched back as tears pricked my eyes.

Edward spoke breathlessly. "I know what I did to you."

I shook my head. "You remember it worse than I do."

"I heard it out your own mouth!" he said. "You were dreaming about it last night! Don't tell me you're fine, because you're not!"

I flinched back more. The tone and volume of his words was unexpected. I wasn't used to him shouting outside of sleep. I breathed shallow breaths through my mouth as tears continued to sting my face. Edward's freshly woken eyes gained a glint of clarity at the sight of my apparent panic.

"I talk in my sleep?" I said.

"Just a…just a little."

My fist pressed against my closed eyes. "I'm sorry, Ed!"

"W-What?"

"I can't help it." I took a deep breath and let it out in sobs. "It's not your fault. I just…"

"No," he said. "Don't apologize."

"It's not you. They're just nightmares. They're not real."

"Nightmares start with reality," he said.

"Reality gets twisted."

"So, what? You just stop being scared of me every time you open your eyes? Just like that?"

"When I wake up," I said, "you're there to make me feel safe again."

His eyes fell. "I don't understand you."

I sniffled. "It's not your fault."

Edward hunched into himself, face turned down. He didn't speak. I touched his shoulder. He shivered and I pulled my hand away. I rested my face on my fist and let my raw eyes close.

"Ed?" I said weakly. "Does it feel like…I made you do it?" I felt my voice breaking in my chest. "Because, it's what I wanted."

Edward kept silent again. His refusal to respond sent my body quaking. I fisted my hair. Everything was wrong. My clothes were too tight and too loose at the same time. I wanted to crawl out of my skin and the panic from being unable to do that sent my heart into rapid pounding.

"This is my fault!" I said.

I squeezed my legs together, holding down the hem of my floral button-down shirt securely with my elbows. I found myself gasping at the memory of Roberts pulling open the buttons and exposing me when he'd had me in the closet. And then Edward had buttoned them back up over me before undoing his own belt. Something about that small gesture made my heart break every time I thought about it.

Edward shifted on the stone floor.

"Winry," he said. "No."

His voice startled me back into the present moment. I met his eyes with trembling breath. He placed a cautious hand on my arm.

"You didn't _want_ this," he said. "You were going by lesser evils and so was I, so there's nothing to feel guilty about." He hunched in the shoulders and looked away. "Sorry I yelled and, you know, said stuff."

I sniffled. I shrugged his hand from my shoulder then shifted onto my knees. I clutched his sleeve and buried my face in his shoulder. His muscles tightened and I could tell he was barely breathing. I just stayed there and sniffled for a while. Time passed and Edward remained still against my touch; like a warmer, gentler version of the wall behind us.

Finally, I said into his shoulder, "We'll forget, Edward. Just need some time. Then we'll forget and we can just be friends who don't remember how they met."

I felt his hand rest gently on the back of my head. He spoke with a voice full of uncertainty.

"Sounds good, Winry."

…

I could see dawn's light coming through the small barred window above, but my attention was grabbed away almost as soon as I'd given it. My stomach clenched and Edward held my hair back as I vomited up the last traces of yesterday's meal of cold oatmeal and water. I'd been doing this off and on for a few days, but this past night had been the worst by far. It was surprising I still had anything left to vomit up. I could tell by Edward's tensing expression that he was becoming more than just a little worried for me as the hours went by. It was hard not to feel guilt under the fearful looks Ed kept giving me, but I really couldn't blame myself for being unable to steady my stomach. I was vomiting over the same bucket we used as a toilet. Hardly a setup to ease nausea.

"Hey, you okay?" said Edward. "You feeling done?"

He rubbed my back in gentle circles and it reminded me of how my grandmother tended me when I got stomach flus. It was soothing, not so hard that it could make me feel sicker. Just soothing. Let me know I wasn't alone.

I groaned. "Hate this."

I heard Edward chuckle in his sad way. "Yeah, I'd be worried if you enjoyed it."

He guided me to lean my weight against him, my head fitting easily against his shoulder. We'd been locked up for a little over a month and, as Ed's morning procedures intensified and my health continued to give out, he and I had found ourselves a lot less shy about physical contact. There were just times when human furniture or a Winry-crutch became necessary.

"Jones soon," I said.

"Let me worry about him," Edward said.

"Feel miserable."

"I know you do."

I snuggled against his arm. "Lie down?"

"You done vomiting?"

"Maybe."

"You need to stay by the bucket until you're sure," Edward said. "You know the rule. If we let this place get filthy, we'll get sick for sure."

Yes, I knew the rule. I'd watched Edward hold to it through an entire day and straight through to morning after Jones had injected him with something stronger than usual, strong enough to have Ed vomiting almost immediately after it had entered his system. Edward had been so violently ill that I'd worried he was in danger of long-term damage. I wasn't that bad, at least.

"I want to lie down," I said.

Edward pushed my sweat-stiff bangs from my eyes. He didn't give me much reply besides that. He'd already given me his answer. I rested my eyes and tried to make due with just leaning against his shoulder.

My body jerked at the sound of the metal door unlocking. My eyes had opened and were darting around like a force of habit. Edward knew my quirks and put his hand on my head in a calming gesture.

"Just the door," he said.

I sucked in a calming breath. I nodded once and closed my eyes.

"I'm going to pick you up," he said.

I nodded. I felt his hand slide under the bend in my legs. I couldn't stop my heart from pounding at the touch. I was in shorts and my thighs were one of the places that hadn't become desensitized like the rest of me. Edward didn't pause, though. Just got it over with. He scooped me up off the floor, setting me down at my spot against the wall before Jones and his monsters even made it in. I opened my eyes enough to watch Edward take off the worn blue uniform jacket and fold it into a pillow for me. He knelt and lifted my head onto it, whispering, "Sleep."

I blinked and Ed was halfway across the room unbuttoning his shirt while Jones went through what looked like more syringes. I closed my eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Edward muffling pain with his teeth.

…

"All right," Jones said. "Be all for today. Good boy, Elric."

"Wait, Jones." Ed's voice sounded so weak.

"What is it?"

"She's sick," Edward said. "Winry's sick. We need more water today. Just for today. Please. She's been vomiting. She's dehydrated and I…"

"Hey, settle yourself," Jones snapped. "Why didn't you just say so? You think we got a water shortage around here?"

Edward didn't answer.

"Hoy, you listening?" Jones raised his voice. "Fullmetal? You awake down there? Fullmetal! Shit."

I sighed back into sleep. Unlike Jones and his monsters, I was perfectly used to seeing Edward fall unconscious.

…

Five weeks and two days. A while after Jones and his monsters had left for the day. That was the morning Ed sank down next to me, holding his freshly prodded arm, and said, "Something's bothering you."

It was nice. When he got through a morning and could still stand on his own.

"You feeling sick again?" he said.

I frowned a little. I hadn't felt anything better than sick in weeks. He knew that.

"Winry," he said. "What is it?"

"I don't know." I did know.

He reached to touch my shoulder. I shrugged away from him. He stared at me with a frown creasing his face.

"Winry."

"I don't want to talk about it."

…

It wasn't until a while after our food had been dropped off that I finally crawled over to the space on the wall where we'd been keeping track of our days in captivity. Edward watched me in silence from his place as I ran my shaking fingers slowly down the tallies and counted separately on one hand. My mouth moved to the numbers I counted in my head.

"Ten, eleven…fifteen…" I muttered.

Edward's steady voice startled me. "Thirty-seven days, Winry. You've been here thirty-seven."

He was standing right behind me. Right behind me! When had he gotten so close? I fought to catch my breath.

"Winry?" He sank to his knees with worry in his gaze. "Hey, it's okay. It's just me."

When I didn't say anything, he rested his hands over mine. He was trying to calm the trembling, I realized. My hands shook harder. He watched me in silent concern. We sat like that for a while. Quiet, still, and neither meeting the other's eyes entirely.

…

I forced the words to come. "Ed, I'm late."

I couldn't see him very well through the darkness, but I could tell by the falter in his panicked post-nightmare breathing that he'd heard me.

I hid my face in my hands. "I checked. I've missed two in a row."

"Missed…" Edward stopped. "What kind of _late_, Winry?"

I curled into myself. I couldn't answer.

"Winry?" he said. His voice became more breathless. "What…what are you saying? Please, don't…"

My fingernails dug into my face. "I think I'm pregnant."

Ed's voice shot the words down instantly. "No."

"Ed, I…"

"No, you're not," he said. "It's something else."

"But…"

"It's something else."

I laid my hand on my stomach. "Morning sickness. All this time."

"No!" said Edward. "No, it's not! It's something else, Winry! It's something else!"

The tears rose up out of me like they always did when Edward raised his voice. Tears had become my response to everything. Why couldn't he cry for once? Edward never cried. Why was I the only one?

Time passed. What could've been more than an hour passed. Edward didn't stop his panicked mumbling for even a moment.

"Please. Please, no," he said again, still begging for it to be a mistake. "This is wrong."

I felt across the stone, following his broken voice until my hand met his knee. Edward made no attempts to fight me as crawled to him and forced him into a hug. I was so drained that I was barely even crying anymore. I pressed my face to his collarbone and just breathed. I felt his chest breathing against me. He didn't hug back.

"Wrong. It's all wrong," he muttered. "Please, no."

I hugged him tighter. "Please, no."

He took a sharp breath. I felt his hand on my back. "It's wrong."

"All wrong," I said.

"It's a mistake."

"Please, no."

His warm arms coiled around me. It was the first time I'd been given a full, voluntary hug from Edward. He leaned his cheek against my hair.

"Scared," I said.

He nodded.

"Really scared," I said.

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

He didn't ask me if I needed space or whether I wanted him to stay or go. He didn't hug me with the same tense caution he'd been putting into touching my shoulder or taking my hand the past weeks. He held me like he'd missed being hugged, like it had been a while since anyone had bothered hugging him.

Edward had told me once that he didn't like hugs, that his family had never been very touchy with each other the way mine had. The moment he'd said that, I'd understood. It wasn't that Edward disliked hugs. He was afraid of them.

As I drifted to sleep, Edward's voice whispered into the air almost too softly to catch. Too soft to tell if he was speaking to me or if he was speaking in his sleep.

"Going to get you out, Winry. Promise."

* * *

**Okay, that's all for now! R&R and those following FL2, look out! Next chapter's coming out before the weekend :)**

**(OMG, I'm a freaking machine! I need to stop writing and...I dunno. Do emails and clean my room?)**


	3. It's Okay

**A/N: Guys, I've been writing so much. It's like a dumbed down version of the Flame Legacy daily-post challenge. But no.**

* * *

Chapter Three: It's Okay

It was early morning, the sun hardly lighting the sky. Edward was laid back against the wall. He held me in his arms. It was cold. He's wrapped his jacket over me before I'd gone to sleep that night. Less than an hour ago, I'd woken from another terrifying nightmare about giving birth in a dungeon. The nightmares had started up a week ago after I'd started to notice the baby bump pushing against my clothes. I'd been telling myself there was a chance I wasn't really pregnant. The physical evidence shattered that hope. Edward spoke softly to me to get my mind off of it.

"Anyway, after that, things only got worse." He rested his hand on my head, letting me lean my face into his chest. "General Armstrong said me giving orders not to kill unless necessary was treasonous, something about insubordination. I don't really remember. She badmouthed me so much it's hard to tell what was the problem when. But after that day on the field, she had it out for me in a bad way. The first morning back at Briggs, she had Miles tell me in the middle of my shower that breakfast had been moved up by half an hour and if I ran a minute late, she'd make my men from East City do fifty push-ups in the snow ass-naked. And, damn, I believed her. I mean, this woman didn't have limits. You have to keep in mind, the reinforcements I brought weren't all that tough like the guys she'd trained herself. I was scared they'd freeze something off or go hypothermic or…I don't know. I guess I panicked. I didn't even bother washing all the bubbles out of my hair. I was already about five minutes late, going by the change in schedule. Plus, the mess was all the way across the building from me. I knew I didn't have time. I was going for my uniform when I realized only the trousers were there. I don't know what happened to the rest, but I know I'd had it all when I came in." Edward chuckled to himself. "Can you imagine what a jerk I'd be if Armstrong hadn't been lying about the schedule change? I was so scared of what everyone would do if they saw my scars that I wasted ten minutes searching for that uniform. I finally snapped out of it and went to the mess hall barefoot in my trousers, figured maybe I could at least try to talk Armstrong into letting me take the penalty instead of my men. But then I get there, shivering and wet, panting out of my mind, and everyone's sitting at their seats eating together like nothing's wrong in the slightest. You know, they were so preoccupied with their meals that I probably could've wised up and made an escape, now that I think about it. But I was so shocked having all of them just sitting there eating that I couldn't move."

I touched his shirt and spoke. "Hm. You got a high school bullying experience after all. Who said being a soldier steals your childhood?"

Ed snorted. "Probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, actually."

"Mm. You don't get embarrassed too easily."

He sighed. "Had a lot more to worry about than saving face." I felt his chest rise and fall. "General Armstrong, she…in that moment when she caught sight of me, I could tell it wasn't what she'd expected. She'd meant to humiliate me, sure. The present issue had been she didn't like her men respecting me too much. But she hadn't counted on the scars. She played it off as cool, of course. Still made a point to completely deny there'd ever been some kind of schedule change or threat made. Made me look nice and stupid. I had to do push-ups right there on the floor for coming to breakfast inappropriately dressed. She gave a speech while I did them, told everyone to look at all my scars 'cause that's what happens to soldiers who don't shoot first. To be honest, I was a little glad about the speech at the end. People thinking you're sloppy in battle's better than people thinking you got kicked around as a kid."

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah," said Edward. "Um, really."

"So, tell me. How'd you end up making friends with a person like her?"

Ed laughed. "Actually, General Armstrong's one of the ones I never got along with."

"Bitch."

He laughed harder. "Tell me about it. Jeez, probably some of the worst terms I've ever left someone on. By the end of my assignment, she was so sick of me showing mercy on the enemy that she sent me on a mission to track down this rogue-soldier in the area and kill him with my own hands. I mean, she ordered me to drag him back to her so she could make sure I didn't cheat and get someone else to do it. I tried negotiating like always, but it was just too late with her. She told me if I didn't do as she said, she'd have me Court Marshaled."

I felt my mouth turn down. "And if that happened, you could lose Al's healthcare."

I could feel Ed's chin nodding against me.

"So," I said, "what happened?"

"I went after the guy," he said. "Ended up falling down an old mineshaft in the middle of fighting him. Got impaled by an iron bar on my way down or something. I hear the guy turned up dead in the rubble. I got pulled out right away, though. There were a couple Drachman soldiers passing by and they recognized me, figured they owed me for talking some Briggs men out of shooting a bunch of their wounded when we were past enemy lines. They were the ones that saved me. So, that ended that. I got put in some shady border clinic and spent a few months recovering with an MIA on my file straight into that coming summer. I never saw Armstrong again."

"Ugh," I said. "Good riddance. I don't get it. How can a person be so awful?"

"Don't know," said Edward. "I don't think it was like Roberts, though. She wasn't evil. She was just taking stuff out on people. I don't know. Everyone has a story." He petted my hair. "But I'd be lying if I said I wanted to get to know her better."

"Mm. Perks of being locked up from society. Don't have to get to know anyone."

Edward chuckled. "Yeah. I'm…" he paused. "I'm still going to get you home."

I nodded. He needed me to believe he could do it.

"We've got five months before you're due," he said. "That's plenty of time."

I nodded. He liked reminding himself he wasn't failing me with every passing day.

"I'll get you out, Winry," he said. "You're not going to have the baby in a prison."

I gripped his shirt and nodded into his chest. "I trust you."

Jones came in with his monsters soon enough. As Edward left me, he was sure to wrap his coat over my stomach just so. The bump wasn't too noticeable yet, but there was no being too careful. We'd decided early on that it would be best if no one found out I was pregnant. Not even Jones could know. He of all people had gotten to know Edward's way of thinking. He'd know Edward would want to get me someplace safer with the baby on the way.

I hugged Edward's coat around my arms and shuddered. Of all the clothes I could've been kidnapped in, it had to be shorts. The warmth of summer had faded over the four months we'd been held and now all that remained was empty, icy stone everywhere you touched.

"So," said Jones. He pulled out a box of chalk from his pocket. "You and the lady seem to be getting on."

Edward sat on the ground shivering. "We're cold."

Jones laughed. "That's right. That's what you tell her."

I could see Edward's frown from where I sat. He didn't like being praised for 'getting on,' but there wasn't much he could say against it without pushing his luck. Jones had gotten impatient with Edward talking back a few times before and Edward had taken notice.

Jones handed the box of chalk to the men he'd brought with them and they began drawing a transmutation circle onto the ground based on a diagram one of them held. Jones took out a red pen and started marking Ed's palm with small dashes. After months of daily medical procedures, Jones and his men had finally moved past trying to analyze and experiment alchemy out of Ed. They now preferred to go about it by trial and error. They were doing today what they'd done the day before and then the day before that. They'd resorted to trying to spark alchemy by inflicting pain. The method was based on an old rumor Edward told me had been proven false that there had been a man who'd achieved alchemy momentarily after being shot in the knee. Edward told me Jones probably knew it had been a rumor and that it wouldn't work, but Jones wasn't one to care.

"Hoy, Elric?" Jones said.

Ed ground his teeth as another thick needle was pushed through his hand.

"Elric!" said Jones.

"W-What?"

"Been wondering," Jones said. "About the marks. You got them everywhere on you. How'd those happen? In battles?"

Edward was quiet.

"Aw, what?" said Jones. "You don't want to tell me? Here I thought I'd earned some trust."

Ed let out a pained laugh as another needle was put through his hand. "Some. Not that much."

"Oh, you cut me to the quick."

"Coming from the guy," Edward said, "who's going to hack my limbs off and leave me to die as soon as we get these stupid circles to activate."

Jones paused. I watched him. His acid green eyes dropped to watch the dormant matrix under Ed's bleeding hand.

"Well," he said. "Maybe we'll sew you up after."

Edward smiled a little. "Maybe you're full of shit."

Jones was suddenly very quiet. He quit trying for banter with Ed and just partook in shoving needles. As yet another fruitless morning of trials ended, Jones ruffled Ed's hair and called him a good boy like he always did, but the sarcasm was barely there. The metal door closed and Edward made his way back to me before I could go to him. His face was flushed with pain. I bit my lip at the seven needles still stuck through his right hand.

I sat up straight and beckoned Ed to sit down with both my arms. "Jerks! Didn't even have the decency to take them out after they were done?"

Ed's knees buckled under him and he leaned hard against the wall. He gave me his hand and I started wrapping a hanky around his wrist like a tourniquet.

"You'd think," he said, "they'd treat their goods better than this."

I eased the first needle out. Edward cringed. I moved on to another.

"I mean," Edward gasped, "this arm won't belong to me forever."

"As far as they know," I said.

Edward didn't meet my eyes. I hated this, how he talked about getting me out but never once mentioned coming with me. How he still planned on his life ending with having his limbs stripped in the bottom of some hole.

I dropped the last needle on the floor and pushed the pile away. Ed held his hand up from his heart to slow the bleeding. His whole arm shook from the trauma. I scooted next to him and shared my warmth.

"Wonder what Al's doing," Ed said. He breathed. "Hope he's out of Central by now. Out of the wheelchair. Eating real food."

"As long as it's not instant potatoes," I said.

Ed smiled. "As long as it's not that."

"I'm sure he's fine, Ed." I patted his arm. "It's been four months. I'll bet he's recovered just fine."

"Wouldn't it be weird," said Edward, "if he and your parents met somehow while we were stuck here?"

"Like, what?" I said.

Ed shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Al saw your Granny trying to cross the street and he offered to carry her groceries."

"She'd tell him to piss off."

Ed laughed. "Your parents are doctors, right? Maybe Al switched to their practice after he got out of Central."

"We lived pretty far out."

"Which is exactly the kind of location Al and I were interested in."

I rolled my eyes. "My parents run a charitable practice. They don't treat people with insurance."

"Right," said Ed. "Forgot."

I paused. I smiled. "You wish they'd meet, don't you?"

"Um, well…" He sighed. "Yeah. I do."

"They wouldn't know the two of us were connected."

"But they'd get along," said Edward. "Don't you think? I mean, Al's got to be the nicest person on the planet. The way you describe your folks, they're probably a close second, third, and fourth. If they met each other somehow in the time you and I were gone, then…"

"Al wouldn't be alone?"

Edward went quiet. "Um, yeah."

I chuckled. "It's okay. I get what you mean. I worry about my family too sometimes. I mean, they aren't exactly alone, but I was an only child. They…used to call me their future."

"You still are," said Edward.

I nodded. "That's right." I felt my face sink. "Um, Ed? Do you plan on…seeing Al again?"

Ed's body stiffened. He let out a breath. "Hey, you ever think about what it might've been like if we'd met, you know, like, some other way?"

I fought the warmth building in my eyes. He'd ignored the question entirely. Not good.

Edward continued. "Like, maybe Al and I really did end up moving to your neck of the woods. I know you were taking a gap year to volunteer and then you were thinking of college, but we'd be bound to meet eventually. Weird to think about, huh?"

"We would've hated each other," I said.

"Huh?" Ed sounded a little shocked.

I laughed. "Okay, maybe not _hate_, but come on. Remember all that stuff you said about being a pretty closed off person? You remember all that stuff you said about Armstrong probably having her reasons for being a jerk but you still weren't interested in getting to know her better? Yeah, that's probably how I'd feel about you."

He snorted. "Wow. Harsh."

"Well, what did you expect?" I sighed. "Come on, Ed. You would've been the ex-soldier who'd done it for the money and I'd have been the sheltered little do-gooder who didn't know half of what she thought she did. Let's face it. If there's one thing we have in common, it's throwing our opinions around. We would've ended up arguing every time we ran into each other."

"Okay, you have a point." Ed laughed to himself. "You realize arguing with people's how most of my relationships start, right?"

I knit my brow. "Hm. Yeah, guess so."

"You'd realize I wasn't that bad," he said. "Well, eventually. I mean, you aren't _that_ inept."

I rolled my eyes to the side. "Yeah, thanks. Or, you know, maybe you'd just grow up and apologize one day?"

"No, can't see me doing that."

"Should've guessed."

Edward chuckled to himself like he was imagining it. He was so funny. I was sure it was this natural, matter-of-fact outlook he had that had kept us sane over the past four months.

Edward let out a breath, turning his damaged hand back and forth in front of him. "Lucky I'm not making it out of here. Wearing long sleeves in the summer's bad enough. Can't imagine how I'd hide this."

I sucked in a breath. My eyes welled. I reached up and removed the tourniquet from his wrist. I bound his hand with it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "That was a stupid thing to say out loud."

"Out loud?"

He grunted as I tied up the knot. My hands shook around his. This was hopeless. He knew. He'd die. He'd keep getting hurt until he died. There was nothing I could do. My purpose wasn't leverage. I was the anchor that kept him in the cell, and getting me out ended in death the same as keeping me in.

"Ed," I said. I swallowed. "The next time I see my parents, I'm going to be pregnant with a baby I can't explain. I don't have a single friend who will ever see me the same. The plans I made are gone."

"It'll get better."

"I want you to stay with me."

He frowned. I swallowed. The look on his face; it wasn't angry. It was just unhappy. His eyes set on the ground. "Thank you for saying that."

"I mean it!"

His breath was long. He nodded.

"Edward, I mean it!" I gripped his arm. "I don't want to go back alone!"

He looked at me, pained. "I'm sorry. Life never really goes according to what we want."

"But, I…"

He hunched. "Please stop talking."

I bit my lip. I eased up on his arm and breathed. I hugged my knees to my chest. "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I shook my head. "No, Ed. You're a good friend."

He was quiet for a moment, the way he always got anytime I referred to him as a friend. He'd told me once that even those he'd become closest to over the years had never really been _friends_ as much as people to be relied on.

"You're a good friend too, Winry" he said.

I met his eyes. He gave me a small hint of a smile. I felt my breath catch.

"I know how I'm going to get you out," he said.

"What?"

"New Year's Eve. Jones said yesterday. It's the holiday people get sloppy. If there's any chance for you, it'll be then."

My heart sank like dropping a stone on my chest. Edward's smile faded. I guessed his heart might be sinking too.

"December thirty-first," I said thinly. "You got it, Ed."

…

December thirty-first. Yeah, about four months away and less than four weeks from my due date, but let's go with what works.

…

When my feet finally began to swell like I'd known they would, Ed let me prop them up on his knees like a pillow. The steadily increasing winter cold only played off my stunted circulation and the spider-veins started to join my swollen ankles. By the end of the sixth month, Ed was just like he had been that awful morning at Briggs; jacketless, shirtless, shoeless, and shivering in his scarred bare skin. He kept his trousers. Everything else kept me and my growing belly as warm as we could manage.

…

"No, but seriously," I laughed, sticking another slice of cheese in my mouth. "What's the point of that? Is it some kind of macho thing? The more titles you have before your name, the more powerful you are?"

Ed laughed. "Hell if I know. You bring up a fair point, though. 'Fuhrer King' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. I think governments just like being complicated."

"Can you imagine all that in the middle of a battle or something, though?" I brought up my hand to my mouth mocking a radio. "Calling all soldiers! We have urgent news from Fuhrer King Prince Emperor President Commander Bradley the Second Junior!" I giggled. "They'd all just be sitting around. Listening to all the names. Waiting on the urgent news."

Edward smiled at me as I continued to scarf down most of his food.

"You're hilarious," he said. "You just crack yourself up, don't you?"

"Well, it's funny." I smiled. "Admit it. It's funny."

"Hm. Yeah." He looked at his scarred hands in front of him and chuckled to himself. "Never really been one to laugh too much."

"Too much? Is that possible?"

His eyes shifted to me. "Guess I never thought about it." His brow furrowed and he looked down again. "You know that thing where someone will be taking something seriously and then someone else will come along and goof off and then the serious one will say to quit laughing, this is serious? That's me. The serious one."

I touched his cold arm. "No, that's not you. That's what you've had to be."

He smiled a little. He nodded. "Sure. We'll go with that." He put his hand out to me. "Um, you mind if I have some of that? I'm feeling a little shaky today."

I broke off my last piece of cheese and gave him the bigger section. Protein was rare. We both needed it. I just needed it more and I'd quit trying to deny that fact months ago. Edward chewed and ate slowly, his little talent. Could eat scraps and savor it like a full meal. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I'm tired," he said.

My shoulders sank. "Again?"

He nodded. "Sorry. I know you like company. I just…"

"You need to keep up your strength so you can spring me loose next week."

He looked at me and nodded.

I took his hand gently in mine. I was careful as I placed his palm against my stomach. His poor hands had been so abused and I knew they still gave him pain sometimes from poor healing. He smiled at me as the baby moved under his touch. The fluttery feeling had scared me at first. For weeks it had set me on edge, just knowing what it meant. Then Edward had finally hinted at wanting to feel it. And the poorly masked wonder in his eyes as he'd felt his baby move for the first time had been what I'd needed to finally stop dreading those little kicks and shifts.

"Do you like the baby?" said Edward softly. "Even a little?"

"Um, yeah." I gave Edward's hand back to him and gazed wearily at my protruding stomach. "It's kind of weird. Having a person inside you without an invitation."

Edward's expression remained unchanged, but the hurt in his eyes made my chest ache. "You still don't want to be a mom."

"Not particularly." I rested a gentle hand on my stomach. "I like the baby. I just don't feel like its mom. If we're being honest."

Ed nodded with that unconditional understanding. "You should give the baby up, then. Talk to an agency as soon as you're out of here. Plenty of couples in the market for an infant."

I took a sharp breath. My heart raced with a rush of adrenaline that made the baby squirm inside me as it sensed my distress. It always did that. Got upset every time I got upset. I frowned, fighting back tears.

"It's not like I don't think you can do it," said Edward. "You'd be a great mom. A really wonderful one. But, if you've decided you're not ready…"

"Ed?"

His face. It was so pale. His eyes were on my stomach, but they weren't really looking at it. He was somewhere else. He was in one of those places he had trouble talking about after nightmares.

I swallowed. "Edward? Are you okay?"

His eyes dragged up to meet my tight gaze. He spoke shakily. "It's not you, okay? It's just…what you said about liking the baby but you still don't feel like you're its mom? Damn, that's just how my mom was. She was…she…" His eyes shied from me for a moment. He looked back at me with deep shame. "She was fifteen when she had me, Winry. She was like my sister. She liked me. She really did. She loved me and my brother to pieces, but she didn't know how to be a mom. She used to cry on my lap every time Dad threatened to leave. She used to hide upstairs with Al while I kept my dad busy when he raged and the times I came up with glass in my stomach or a twisted arm, she'd lock Al in our room with me so he couldn't get a doctor. She'd just cry and apologize and say the doctor would get the wrong idea and they'd take Dad away. And…and you know how she died? I lied before, okay? Mom didn't fall down the stairs. Dad threw her down. The one day I didn't get out of bed early enough to make sure he left her alone and he pushed her down the stairs because she was being too clingy or something and, damn it!"

He was breathing heavily. I tried not to stare at the scars carved into his skin, but it was hard. Ed closed his eyes. He looked up at me, his gaze just a little wetter than I was used to seeing.

"You're not like my mom," he said. "You're not going to live her life or make her mistakes or be the kind of mom she was. And I don't expect you to move in with some jerk who treats you like shit. I mean, she was so messed up. But if you honestly don't plan on being a committed mother to this child, please don't be brave. There are people more than willing to fill that role for you. I know I probably don't have much business telling you what to do at this point, but you just need to trust me on this one." Edward ran a hand through his hair. "You have no idea what it's like to have a mom who doesn't want to be your mom. And that's a really good thing."

I shivered and it wasn't from the cold. I wasn't sure Edward's shivers were the cold either. I held my tummy. I felt the tears pushing against my eyes, ready to brim down my face. I let them come. I crawled close enough to Ed to reach my arms around his neck, my round belly pressing against his bare skin. I felt the baby shift to rest up against its daddy. I sobbed as Edward's arms came around me. His scratchy cheek pressed against my ear and I listened to his scared breaths.

"It would be different," I said, "if you came with me."

"Don't," Edward said.

I nodded, cheeks warming. That had been a low move. "I'm sorry."

"Winry?"

"Yes?"

"You're probably the nicest person I've ever met."

I hugged him tighter. "You're my best friend, Ed."

I gulped. I hadn't really meant to put it so bluntly. Ever. My face burned. Ed had once summed up 'best friends' as something girls did to leave other girls out. And I'd agreed with him.

His breath shuddered in his chest. "You serious?"

I sniffled, a little caught off guard by his response. He waited for an answer.

"Um…" I closed my eyes. "Yes."

"Well, um," he paused, "same here."

I felt my crying eyes widen. "You serious?"

"Um," he said. "Yeah, well, I think it stands to reason. Since you're pretty much the only friend I've had that seems to give half a damn about me, you'd be the only one to qualify for that position, so…um, yeah."

I sat up a little, my mouth quivering into a smile. "You feeling sorry for yourself?"

He smiled in his weary way. "I should stop that."

He took my wrist and wiped the tears off my cheeks with my borrowed sleeve. I leaned next to him and put my arm over him to give him warmth.

"Quit stalling and sleep," I said.

He yawned. "You were the one who kept talking."

I watched him as his eyelids dropped and he fell slowly into the long sleeping breaths. I continued to watch him sleep and wondered how long before he'd start muttering. I wondered what he'd mutter about this time. When he did start, the words made me feel sick.

"Don't want…to be alone here, Winry."

…

We'd kept my belly hidden under Edward's uniform. The blue jacket was so big on me that it really did hide a lot if I positioned myself right. Jones and his monsters seemed more interested in getting results out of Edward anyway. It had been about eight months of countless efforts and nothing to show for it. They were getting bored. Jones not as much. He liked Ed's company with or without results. Ed had been doing better since Jones had taken to listening to him about what might work to spur the alchemy back into being.

"See," said Edward, "if we can just get one of you guys activating something rudimentary, there's a chance. Even in its most basic form, alchemy has a better chance of triggering alchemy than drugs or pain alone."

"Makes sense," said Jones.

Ed was drawing in chalk onto the stone floor. "Only danger in that is if you rush it or go into it unready, whoever performs the transmutation stands the risk of receiving the rebound should it fail. If you do it my way, you'll want to make sure you know exactly what you're doing before you move forward with it. That's going to take time, and I know you're growing impatient with this as it is."

Jones folded his arms. "Power of a State Alchemist's worth a little patience in my line of work. Show us what you got in mind. Whoever of us picks it up fastest will be your little student, hey?" Jones laughed. "Look at you. Our dear little teacher."

"Don't call me little," Ed mumbled.

Jones laughed harder. "Got yourself a complex, then?"

"Kind of." Edward continued to mark the floor. "Had kind of a rough childhood, remember? Not enough food to grow on. Folks in the military called me a shrimp like it was funny or something. I didn't like it."

Jones's countenance changed subtly. "Malnourished? That sort of thing?"

Ed nodded. "That's it."

"You're plenty grown now," said Jones. "What you holding onto?"

Ed paused. He looked up at Jones. "That's a fair point." He sighed and started drawing again. "Never mind. Call me what you want. Not like I can tell you what to do."

Jones chuckled. "You go on and tell me whatever you want. I decide whether I heed it or not."

Ed shook his head. "Ain't that the truth."

I leaned my head against the wall. This was all so routine. We'd been doing the same drills every day for eight months. The monotony was sickening and comforting at the same time. In four days, it would end. In four days, I'd say goodbye. I'd never see Ed again and the monotony of this place was clouding my ability to feel the reality of that. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing yet. I was sure I'd find out on New Year's Eve. Four days.

"So," said Jones as they wrapped up. "You won't be seeing us tomorrow, little man. Sure you'll be missing us terribly, but try to stay strong."

I could see Edward trying not to look too thrown off. "Um, okay. The facility going on lockdown or something?"

"No," said Jones casually. "Nothing like that. Just celebrating, you know? New Year coming up. Even the big-shots like yours truly get to slack off for a day."

"Oh." Ed swallowed and played it cool. "Is it New Year's already? I knew it was getting cold."

Jones chuckled. "Ain't surprising since you've given up all but your trousers to the lovely lady. No, New Year's Eve doesn't come for another four days. We just got it in our heads it might be best to distribute our day off amongst ourselves throughout the week so we don't have every man drunk silly and off his guard in the same day. Be a pretty great opportunity for someone to attack with us all down like that." Jones grinned and tapped his head. "See that? Finally thinking like an Elric. You proud?"

I caught Ed's hand trembling. He nodded with a convincing smile, but his eyes were like stone. "Good thinking, Jones. Guess there's hope for this business yet."

Jones ruffled Ed's hair and stood. "Good boy."

The metal door clunked behind them. Ed slowly came to his feet. I gulped back the ache in my throat as he took heavy strides to the wall with the tallies. Some were written in blood. Ed faced the wall for a moment, just staring at the marks, the hundreds of days we'd been locked up in this place. He shook his head, his expression flashing with anger. I had a guess of what would come next. He swung back his scarred fist and threw a hard punch into the marked stone.

"Damn it!" he said.

I propped my hand behind my back and stood.

"No," he said. "No, this isn't happening!"

I sniffled as the expected tears came. My feet took me to him. I put my hand on his shoulder. He shrugged me off. I tried again. He shrugged me off. I stepped closer and gripped his shoulder hard and steady. He took a deep, hard breath. I stepped into a hug. I clung to him, speaking into his icy shoulder.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not," he said.

"It's okay."

He shook his head. "No, it's not."

"It's okay."

He trembled. His voice came weakly. "No. It's not."

I rubbed his back, feeling the ridges of dented and raised scars in his skin against my smooth palm. "It's okay, Ed. It's okay."

"No," he said. "It's not. You're going to have a baby, Winry."

I sniffled. "I know. But it's okay."

"How?"

"Because I say so." I sniffed again. "That's why."

He didn't laugh. He just held me and breathed like he'd run a mile.

My chest broke into a sob. "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."

"I'm so sorry," he said. "So sorry."

"It's okay," I kept saying until my mouth said it for me. "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."

The baby twisted in my stomach as it fed off my feelings.


	4. No Choice

**A/N: Warning- Childbirth is gross.**

* * *

Chapter 4: No Choice

"Security's too tight," Ed mumbled to himself. "Even if she…no, that wouldn't work. Not from down here."

I yawned as I rubbed his shivering arm. "Did you ever fall asleep last night? Didn't hear you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn. Morning already?"

"Yeah." I put my hand on my tummy and took in a calming breath. "It's okay, Ed."

"I can figure something out."

"No," I said. "You can't. All this time, our plan's relied on the holiday's thinned out security. What do we have going for us now? Face it. We waited too long to think up a fallback. I'm so pregnant right now I can't see my feet past my stomach. I can't run. I can't sneak around. Even if you did get me out of this cell, I won't get past anybody like this. We're done, Ed." I looked at my knees. "We're done."

I felt his hand on my shoulder. "No. Having a baby in a prison is something people just aren't supposed to do."

"Well, it's not like we have a choice." I looked at him and frowned. "I've had enough false hope, Ed. Just let it go. You never wanted me to leave anyway."

Ed stared at me with wide, hurt eyes. "No, I…"

I hugged my arms. "You didn't want to be alone in this place. Who would?"

Something flared in Edward's eyes for a moment. His gaze darted to the ground. "That's what you think? You think I'm happy about this?"

"It's what you _wanted_," I said.

His frown deepened. "I don't think about stupid stuff like that."

"Stupid stuff like that?" I said. I growled under my breath. "Know what? Forget it."

I turned away from him. I ran my hand messily over the front of my hair to disguise a move to cover my mouth from sobbing aloud. My body quaked and tears ran over my hand. I hated this. I was sick of crying over everything. Big things. Little things. Things that weren't even things.

"Winry?" Edward said.

I sniffled against my hand.

"Winry?" he said again. "Did you…?" I heard him let out a gentle exhale. "You want me to want you here."

I kept quiet as my voice threatened to break.

"I want you here," said Edward. His hand rested on my back. My body won and I let out a sob. His hand flinched away. "Sorry," he said. "That was stupid. I shouldn't have said that."

"No," I said. "Say it again."

He was quiet for a moment like he had to remember the words. "I," he said, "want you here. With me."

I noted how he'd tacked on that last bit at the end. _Here—with me_. He really couldn't say he wanted me here simply as in _here_. He was so afraid to say anything that could imply he was glad about my situation.

"To tell you the truth," said Edward, "I was kind of hoping they'd just get it over with and kill me after you'd left. It would happen eventually, so no point in stringing it out."

It had always been somewhat implied, I guessed, but this was the first time Edward had really stated I was his only reason left to live. I frowned at my stomach. Edward's reasons to live tended to be more along the lines of lingering concerns than desires, of course.

"What do you want, Ed?" I said. I shifted around to face him. "For real. Do you want to live?"

Ed stared at the wall. "Does it matter?"

"Do you?"

"Not sure it matters," he said.

"It's a simple question," I said. "Really? It's that hard?"

"Sure," he said. "I want to live. At least until I know you and the baby are going to be okay."

"I don't mean out of necessity." I grabbed his chin and turned his face to meet my eyes. "Do you want to live, Edward?"

He looked into my eyes and I suddenly felt a little shaky. I realized with instant regret that he hadn't been taking my nagging half as lightly as I'd thought he had. His eyes were deep, his face pale and creased with confusion. He was honestly having to think about it. I dropped my fingers from his chin and shied from his gaze.

"You don't have to answer," I said. "It's not like you have a choice either way."

I winced. That last part hadn't come off as harsh in my head.

"Don't know if I want to live," he said. "I don't know."

I froze. So, that meant…

"Part of you wants to live," I said.

"Guess so," he said. "You…sound surprised."

"Guess so," I said.

The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile. "You know, you kind of remind me of my brother sometimes. He'd do what you just did there. Be asking a question over and over and I'd finally give him the answer and he'd just kind of get this thrown off look, like he wasn't sure what he'd been looking for, but it sure as hell wasn't that."

I felt my mouth turning up. "Like the time he asked you where babies came from?"

Ed laughed. "Except that time I let Dad's bio textbooks do most of the talking." Ed shuddered. "Poor kid had trouble falling asleep that night."

"Didn't you tell him right before bed?"

Ed shrugged. "Minor detail."

Every time I heard about Ed's little brother, I wanted to meet him. He really did seem like a sweet, funny guy from Ed's stories. More than anything, I could see how Ed cared about Al by how he _told_ the stories. Ed told stories about Al when he needed something to smile about. Just like my stories about Granny and her fat old three-legged dog.

My heart leapt at the harsh clang of the door opening at the top of the stairs. My hands clung tightly to Ed's arm. Startled tears pricked my eyes. Ed sat up more, his hand resting on my back.

"What's going on?" I said. "They're not supposed to be here. No one's supposed to be here. Jones said no one was going to come today."

"It's okay," said Edward, rubbing my back. "Calm down."

But his eyes were scared.

"All right, lovelies," Jones's voice said like a boom. "Don't think I forgot about you."

Edward stood in a swift motion that had him swerving on his feet. I could see his thin shoulders tense as he planted himself in front of me. I scrambled to straighten his coat over my pregnant body. The baby wriggled and sent flutters through me.

Jones swung the door closed behind him with the back of his boot. He had a tray in his hand stacked with the most food I'd seen in one place in a while. My mouth instinctively watered and I gulped down the wave of hunger that followed. Ed stood firm. His hands trembled at his sides.

"Hoy," said Jones as he came to Edward. "What's that face for? You ain't happy to see me?"

"Sorry," said Edward coolly. "I'm just a little caught off guard. You said we wouldn't be getting visitors this morning."

Jones shrugged a shoulder. "Call me a delivery boy." He handed out the tray to Ed. I could see it now; bread, oranges, and some kind of salami. Jones smiled. "Don't want our State Alchemist fainting on us again. We got work to do tomorrow."

Ed's chin tilted down as he studied the food without taking it. "This is nice. Better than anything we've had since we've been here."

"Probably because it came off me and Roberts's table." Jones laughed. "We got so much food out we'll likely be tossing it to the dogs for weeks."

"For the celebration?" said Edward.

"Right."

Edward took the tray. "Wow. If you call this scraps, there really must be a lot out."

"What would you expect?" said Jones. "Got the whole ground floor of this branch off today besides a couple guards. A lot of greedy mouths."

Ed laughed. "Greedy mouths, huh? Hm. I feel kind of sorry for those guards, having to stand watch while everyone else in the whole damn unit's off partying with Roberts upstairs."

"Oh, spare them your pity." Jones took on a sly grin. "I sent them up for a bite. Didn't want them bugging me about feeding prisoners better than them."

My heart picked up. Ed's body language had changed. His movements were still rigid, but he'd forced his hands steady. I saw the way his stance had shifted, how he'd put his weight on the balls of his feet rather than his heels. Oh, God.

"So," said Edward. "I take it you, me, and Winry are the only people on this floor right now?"

Jones began to smile, but his expression faltered. His eyes fixed onto Edward. "Yes, I…suppose so."

"And no one knows you're here?" said Edward. There was a smile in his words.

Oh, God. I swallowed. Oh, God! I took in shallow breaths as Jones's eyes hardened with realization. Ed was going to do it!

The clatter of the food dropping from Edward's hand made me jump in my skin. Jones was reaching behind his back with wild eyes, going for his gun, but Edward was already there. His knee jammed into Jones's stomach and I shut my eyes partway through watching Jones doubling over. I opened my eyes again and found myself dizzy from the flash of movements in front of me. It was too fast. Too fast to watch. Too fast to keep up with. Too fast to think.

"Stop it," my mouth said. "Stop it!"

Jones's voice got halfway through shouting, "Elric!" Then the sound was smothered and Edward spoke over the thump of a body.

"Winry!" he said. "Winry, get up!"

Ed's voice had a terrifying edge. My eyes cracked open to meet his severe gaze, like looking right into the sun and not being allowed to look away. Ed had Jones facedown on the ground with Ed's knee digging into Jones's back to keep our captor down. Jones was writhing in constrained jerks. Angry grunts roared from his throat, stifled by the military issued belt Ed had gagged around his mouth. I found myself shaking my head.

"Stand up, Winry!" said Edward again. "Get out of here now! You won't get another chance!"

"I don't…" My body shook. "I don't know how."

Ed's face fell for an instant, exposing that deep foreboding I'd known was there. "Follow the drafts like we talked about," he said. "Then listen for roads or towns as soon as you make it out. Don't look back."

My legs wobbled under me as I stood. I caught Jones's acid green eyes widening as my belly peeked through the open jacket. I shook my head. I squeezed my eyes tight.

"Winry!" said Edward.

I met his eyes again. My voice broke. "What are they going to do to you?"

Ed's face crumpled. "Shut up and go!"

I looked down at Jones. He'd stopped writhing for the most part. He just stared in stunned silence.

"Winry…" said Edward. I looked into his gold, tortured eyes and he looked away. His voice weakened. "Have a good life, okay?"

I took a sharp breath. My hands balled at my sides. My heart pounded as my feet finally forced me forward. Edward didn't meet my eyes as I passed him by.

…

This was wrong. This was so wrong. Tears tumbled down my hot face as I crawled along the cold hall floor. Edward had been the pregnancy his mom hadn't wanted. He'd been the child no one in town new about or cared for. He'd been the soldier who'd been enlisted to score his superior points. The soldier who'd been betrayed and forgotten the moment he'd stopped being useful. As I crawled down hall after hall, following drafts as they touched my face, I began to get this sinking feeling that Edward had been born to be expendable. His only purpose in living was to keep others from dying. I wondered if anyone, just anyone, had ever looked him in the eye and told him he was wanted on this earth.

I lifted my hand under my tummy as I crawled. My belly had gotten so heavy with the recent weeks. It made my back arch down beyond what I'd realized was possible for me in my state. My knees ached as they continued over the thinly carpeted floor. I'd been right when I'd told Ed we couldn't rely on speed to get me out. I couldn't even walk without my legs giving out on me every few minutes.

"This is wrong," I kept muttering to myself, barely even listening to my words as time passed.

Edward had explained it months ago, how much more likely it would be that I'd make a clean escape if I went alone. I was a hostage, not anything important. If I made it out, they wouldn't risk searching for me outside their lines. If Ed made it out with me, they'd put everything they had into bringing us both back. And Ed and I had already had a taste of what happened to prisoners who tried to escape and got caught.

But, damn it! He'd been so close! The more I thought about it, the less certain I became. He'd had Jones restrained. We'd been alone in that room and no one had known about it. No one was due to check on us for a full day. The entire bottom floor was vacated. Ed had gotten thin, but he was still perfectly strong enough to lift me. In the time it had already taken me to make it down the dark halls, Edward probably could've carried me out and gotten us both to safety.

I sniffled softly, crawling, rubbing my belly as the baby moved in restless turns. Safety. What was that? I paused and sobbed into my hand, rocking back to sit on my heels. Safe? I didn't know what that was. My heart rushed. I'd see my family within the week and I was terrified. I was terrified. I was scared to even hear their voices. I'd been hearing the same exact voices every day for eight months. I didn't want this! I didn't want any of it!

I leaned forward and kept crawling. I let myself cry openly. There wasn't anyone around to hear it.

"It's okay, baby," I sobbed. "We'll be okay."

Like some twisted kind of response, a current of throbbing pain coursed through my spine. My knees faltered and I stopped to catch my breath. My arms shook with effort as I tried to move forward again. This time the pain kept to the lower part of my back. I stopped again as my head began to spin. No. Not now! I tried to breathe through it, but the pain returned in a harsh wave. I cried out without really meaning to.

I put my hand over my mouth. The tears fell heavier. "Ed…"

My heart skipped at the sound of footsteps and my eyes rose with anticipation. I wasn't entirely sure why I expected it to be Ed. It wasn't like him to make stupid decisions at other people's expenses. But I was so sure it was him for that first moment that I found myself smiling.

Of course, it wasn't him.

"Well, what do we have here?" said Roberts with a double-edged grin. "Aren't you a pathetic sight?"

…

My eyes peeled open and stared up dully at the stone prison ceiling. The air was dank, the only air I really remembered how to breathe anymore. My back ached beyond the usual soreness and I winced at the sudden memory of what had led up to that. The light cast through the window indicated mid-morning. We'd failed.

I'd failed.

I sat up slowly, laying a hand on my back to support the weight of my stomach. I gasped at the clinking of chain that followed the movement. My eyes shot down to my left wrist and I bit down on my lip. I'd been shackled. I was shackled right at the bottom of those four stone steps. I looked across the prison. I could see now. The chain would be about long enough to make it partway to my usual spot. They'd chained me right to the wall at the bottom of the stone steps. There was no curling up and hiding. No corner to huddle into, not unless I wanted to curl up next to the bucket where the rats came out of the wall. I was exposed! Completely exposed!

"Ed…" I took a breath. "Ed?"

My eyes darted over the room. He wasn't in our usual spot either. No. There he was! He was leaned against the other wall, the one with the tallies marked into it. My heart dropped. He wasn't just leaning. He was completely limp. From where I was, I couldn't even tell if he was shivering or if his chest was breathing. My stomach flipped. Blood everywhere. All over him and smudged on the floor and the wall and his clothes and his hair and…

"Ed!" I screamed.

I came up on my knees and stood. The momentum helped me stumble forward a few steps before dropping back down. I crawled toward him until the chain became taught on my wrist, then I reached my arm out to him until my fingertips managed to brush his cheek.

Ed's bruised eyes opened in a flash. His body jerked upright in an unnatural state of sudden clarity. His head whipped to me, gaze too alert as it bore into my eyes. His chest heaved breath after breath.

My lip trembled. "Ed?"

He was completely still. His eyes stalked me like he was afraid to look away for even a moment. I reached to touch him again. He flinched away like a reflex.

"Ed," I said. "I'm so sorry."

His mouth opened. His eyes strained on me like he was trying to remember how to speak. His face slackened. His mouth fell closed. He leaned back against the wall and frowned to himself.

"Ed, I'm sorry," I said. "Please, forgive me!"

He remained silent.

I sniffled. "You're bleeding."

His expression winced as he gave me a slow nod. "Th-they broke my…m-my…" His eyes narrowed and I watched his jaw flex as he tried to finish the sentence. Finally, he let out a breath and gestured to the lower part of his legs.

I fought a sob. My eyes ran over his awkwardly bent limbs. "They broke your legs?"

He nodded.

"Roberts?" I said.

Ed shook his head. "Jones."

My eyes widened. No. That wasn't right. "Jones broke your legs?"

Ed flinched at my sharp tone. He kept his eyes down. "N-Not his fault. Roberts m-m-made him hurt me."

My shoulders sank. Of course. "To prove a point."

Ed blinked sluggishly. "Only r-reason you m-made it…f-far as you did. T-Trusted us."

"You're…stuttering pretty bad, Ed." I studied him, his overly alert eyes and paled features. Had he hit his head? "How long have you been sitting here alone like this?"

"D-Don't know."

I looked at all the blood. "You're probably in shock."

"Had worse," he said. He ran his tongue over a bloodied lip. He swallowed and let out a shaky exhale. "W-Win...?"

He couldn't even finish my name. I rested my hands on my lap. I sniffed. I smoothed his collared button-down over my belly and legs and hugged the coat closed. "What is it, Ed?"

He didn't speak for a moment. His eyes narrowed again. Trying to find the words. "Really s-sorry." He looked up and met my gaze in his gentle way. "W-We tried."

"That's right," I said. "We tried. No one can say we didn't give it our best shot."

"Roberts," said Ed, "hurt you?"

"No," I said.

"You w-were out cold. Couple hours."

I fisted the cloth over my stomach. The baby moved in flutters. "I think I was having contractions."

Ed's eyes darted to my stomach then back to me, his expression tensing. "Y-You…"

"Not now," I said quickly. "It's okay. They stopped."

Ed looked confused.

"I'm pretty far along," I said. "False alarms are normal at this point."

He closed his eyes tightly, his mouth turning down.

"Don't worry," I said. "It stopped, okay?"

"S-So s-s-stupid," he said in a near whisper. "Made you go. M-Made you over…over-d-do it. Now what?"

"Ed, I'm fine."

He looked at me. "Keep it…k-keep baby inside. Long as you can. N-Need's to…" He swallowed, face sinking. "Going to have a h-hard time keeping it alive…down here as it…it is. If it…if it comes…if it c-comes…" His eyes shifted down as he fought to finish the thought.

"If it comes too soon?" I said.

He nodded.

"It could be bad," I said.

He nodded.

I rubbed my stomach and nodded back. "You're right. I hadn't even thought of that, really. How do we keep a newborn alive in this place?"

"D-Don't know."

"It's so cold."

"W-Well," said Ed, "low temp-temp…"

"Temperatures?"

"Not good for b-bacteria."

I forced a smile. "There's always that."

Ed closed his eyes again and rested his head back. "Think…th-think I'll sleep."

My muscles tensed. "Wait. Wait a second. Did you hit your head?"

He shrugged a shoulder and winced right after.

"When Jones was beating you," I said, "did you hit your head?"

"D-Don't know."

I tried reaching my arm out to him again. He was just too far away. I wanted him to get closer, but how could I even ask that of him when both his legs were broken? He was doing well not to be moaning in pain where he sat.

"Ed, don't sleep," I said. "If you fall asleep with a concussion, you could die. You can barely speak straight! Please, I need you to stay alive!"

His body trembled. His eyes closed tighter. It took me a moment to realize my raised voice had startled him.

I sucked in a breath. "Sorry."

His eyes opened slowly to stare at the ceiling. "I'll s-stay awake."

"Will you," I began, "let me take a look at your legs?"

His eyes stayed on the ceiling as he nodded.

My hands rested on my knees and my fingers hooked onto the shackle restraining my left wrist. "Ed, do you think you can move toward me a little? I can't reach you."

His features fell. He let out a shaky breath. I watched his arm muscles tighten as he nodded. He inhaled deeply and shifted himself over with his teeth grinding and his face cringing. I put my hand out to him as he got within reach. He let me help him, but it was clear that he didn't like the contact. Every movement I made seemed to catch him off guard.

His legs weren't as bad at they could've been. Nothing had splintered through his skin or been twisted enough to need surgery. I supposed if our captors were still set on using Ed, keeping his injuries somewhat superficial wasn't a coincidence. The point, I realized, had mostly been some cruel form of immobilizing him.

Ed kept quiet for the most part as I reset his shinbones and bound them and his cuts. The makeshift bandages made me feel sick. We'd been recycling them for months against the better judgment of anyone who knew the slightest thing about first-aid, but it wasn't like we'd been given any better. It was a slightly lesser evil to letting him bleed.

"God," I whispered to myself. "Jones did this?"

"C-Couldn't go… g-go easy," said Ed. "Roberts…Roberts wasn't punishing _me_."

I caught the weight in Edward's voice. His eyes were somewhere else, somewhere in a nightmare. A nightmare I recognized.

"He was," I said, "punishing Jones."

Ed was quiet. I touched his hand and he flinched. I pulled away. After a moment, his hand touched mine. He held my fingers loosely in his grip. I sniffled, watching his dull features. Unchanging and pale as he stared into space.

"G-Glad," he said, "you're here."

"Me too," I said. Crying came quickly as I realized it was the truth.

…

The routine resumed the next morning, but nothing seemed the same. The metal door opened and Edward didn't make a single move to shield me from the monsters before they entered. Instead, Ed trembled against the wall, eyes locked on the top of the stairs as man after man filed in. He trembled harder when a couple of the monsters grabbed his arms and dragged him to the middle of the floor. They were rough, completely careless of his legs. For the first time, I got to hear Edward groan out loud.

Ed didn't meet eyes with any of them as they worked. Jones didn't even try to meet Ed's. Jones stood back. He kept his arms folded and his eyes down on the chalk lines Ed's trembling hand was marking clumsily over the stone. When Jones left with his monsters, he didn't touch Ed's head. He didn't tell him he was a good boy. Jones kept his eyes low and his mouth shut like he'd just discovered shame for the first time.

Before Jones walked out the door, I caught his eyes studying my stomach. His shoulders tensed and he left us.

…

Eight nights. Eight nights in a row that Edward hadn't woken me up with his muttering and screaming. The baby woke me with its kicks and squirms, but Edward didn't make a sound as he slept. Not since the morning of my failed escape. At first I'd thought it was a good thing. No screaming or muttering meant duller nightmares, right?

Then I'd watched him one afternoon. I'd sat next to him and stayed at his side as he'd slipped into sleep. Not half an hour into it, Ed's face had said it all. He'd pursed his lips together, bit down on them and breathed tightly through his nose with his fists shaking at his sides. His body had jerked and twitched as his face crumpled to where it looked like he was crying without tears. When he finally did wake up, his entire body jarred like he'd been pulled out of another world. He'd caught his breath in silence and hadn't spoken a word for a while after that. He'd just felt for my hand and stared at the ceiling with dead eyes as I gave it to him.

…

It took Ed several weeks before he told me what had happened while I'd been unconscious. I'd already figured it out, though.

…

"Ed," I said, holding out the bread again. "Ed, you need to eat."

"You need it m-m-more," he said. He hugged his thin arms from the cold in a passive refusal.

"We need you to stay alive," I said. "Just eat it."

"N-No. I…I'm…I'm…" His eyes focused hard as he searched for the word.

I frowned. He tended to get stuck on the 'f' sound a lot. "No, you are not _fine_, Edward."

He hunched. Yeah, I'd guessed right.

I sighed. "Ed."

Gently, I rested my hand on his arm; the way I'd learned wouldn't catch him off guard. I rubbed his bicep with my thumb and felt some of the tension in him slowly relax.

"S-Sorry," he muttered.

"You can't use this baby as an excuse to starve yourself."

He nodded.

I handed out the bread to him again. "Okay?"

He took it shakily and ate in his slow way.

"It's good?" I said.

He nodded.

I smiled and took my hand off his arm. "Good."

He looked at me but didn't smile back. He hadn't done much in the ways of smiling in a while. He tried not to talk too much either. I could tell the stuttering embarrassed him a little. Edward liked control. Now he watched me in complete powerlessness as I grew bigger every passing day. He couldn't free me, couldn't help me, couldn't give our captors what they asked for, and couldn't finish three sentences without freezing up and having to remember his words. I could see it, how it ate at him from the inside out. He was barely keeping it together and that scared me to death with the baby on its way.

I took Edward's lank hand and laid it flat on my stomach. He met my eyes with more surprise than I'd expected. He didn't seem startled by the touch. He seemed surprised by the gesture itself.

"What is it?" I said. "You've touched my tummy plenty of times."

He didn't move.

"Not now, huh?" I felt my face warming. Normally he liked this. I eased up on his hand. "Sorry."

His hand slipped for an instant, but he placed it back over my tummy and kept it where I'd had it. His golden eyes watched my stomach like there was something intriguing about it. Carefully, he rubbed his hand side to side.

"Seems like the little guy never stops moving these days," I said.

"It's really grow…growing," said Edward. "It's going to hap…to…"

"Happen?"

"Going to," he closed his eyes and took a breath, "happen."

"Yeah." I placed my hands over his on my tummy. "This is…going to happen."

There was a long silence. I felt my eyes turning warm and wet.

Finally, Ed spoke. "How do w-we…we…?"

My hands gripped hard to his. "You have to be strong. For me, Ed!"

He flinched at my voice, but his hand stayed in mine. He swallowed. "W-Win…Win…"

"I can't do this," I cried. "I can't take care of you and me and have a baby and…and…" I sobbed. "I don't want to do it! My mom's not here. No husband. No doctors or nurses. This isn't how it was supposed to happen!"

"Damn it!" Ed slipped his hand from my grip and took my arm. My heart skipped. He hugged onto me. "Son of a b-b-b…!"

"Bitch!" I said.

His body quivered in my arms. "Can't even talk."

"You're getting better," I said. "Only certain sounds."

His forehead nodded into my shoulder.

"Ed." I sobbed. "Don't give up. Not yet."

"Sorry," he said. "So sorry, W-W-Win…"

I laced my fingers through his blood-crusted hair. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry." His cold body shivered against me. "I'll b-be here. I'll be…I'll b-be…w-we'll both…"

I nuzzled against him and nodded.

"I'll be…b-be strong…W-Win…Win…"

I sniffled. "_Win_'s fine."

"F-Feel like I'm going crazy." I felt his hands cling to the jacket on my back. "B-Been hurt w-w-worse. Never this bad after, though. Can't…can't shake it."

I rubbed his back. The way he was holding on now made me wonder if he'd been ready for this longer than I'd realized. "You don't have to shake it," I said. "Just…keep eating. You won't have the chance to shake this if you let yourself die."

"I w-won't die," he said. "I'll stay here with you."

The way he said it made me choke up again.

…

The week the baby was due, I woke up every night with contractions that came and left. I found myself getting sick to my stomach with anxiety on a regular basis as reality became tangible. The baby had developed to full size and it dug its head and heels into my back and pelvis like it was trying to break out of me. Any pain put me into a panic attack at the possibility that it might be the real thing.

Edward seemed relieved at the fact that our baby had made it to full term, but the fact that the baby remained inside me for a full week and a half after its scheduled due date had us scared like children.

…

Edward and I had it counted on the wall. It was the evening of February tenth when the waves of pain came and, for the first time, didn't stop. It wasn't until the morning of the twelfth that the waves of pain gradually began to come closer together.

…

"Listen to m-me, Jones," Edward pleaded for the hundredth time in three days. "F-For…F-F-For real this time! She's…!"

"Less chat," said Jones, "more alchemy. You go look after you girlfriend later."

"No, y-you need to get her a doctor!" said Edward. "She needs…needs…"

"I said shut up!"

Jones kicked Ed in the side, but I saw how his boot slanted from breaking bones. Jones's shamed eyes said it all. There really was nothing he could do for us.

Ed didn't stop trying, though.

…

I kept opening my eyes and hearing Ed saying, "Win? Win, w-wake up! You p-p-passed out again!"

…

Ed winced every time I gripped tighter to his hand. His persistence with Jones had gotten one hand fractured and a few of the other's fingers dislocated. But I couldn't stop tightening my grasp and Ed didn't pull away.

"Don't want this!" I screamed. "Don't want this!"

…

By the time I finally started pushing, every light in the sky was long gone. The winter clouds had snuffed out the moon and stars. I knew the floor was there because I felt it under me. I knew Ed was with me because his hand was on my knee and his voice was mounting over my screams. But, besides that, I was alone. Just emptiness and pain and wet between my legs. Nothing to protect me from the life tearing its way out of my body. And I couldn't stop it.

"Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"Come on, W-Win! You're almost there!"

My muscles weren't exhausted. They were non-existent. Just pain. My body was pushing for me. I had no say in it. It wouldn't have made a difference if I'd known how to try.

"You're close," Edward urged as I moaned through another contraction. "Come…come on, Win. You're so…you're so close."

"Nothing's happening," I cried.

"I think I can f-feel its…its head."

I gasped on a breath, my whole body shuddering. "No! I can't!"

"Yes, you can," he said. "You're going to…to get it out. And…and…and it'll b-be over."

Over. Over. Over.

The pain came on strong and I felt my body forcing me to do what I didn't want to do. I couldn't fight it. I couldn't make it stop!

Ed's hand tightened on my knee. "Come on, Winry, push!"

I bore down and shrieked, "Over!"

I pushed again and again, every time feeling like I was doing something wrong. Only knowing I couldn't keep from doing it. Fifteen grueling minutes went by before Edward's hand came off my knee and he told me to keep going. Keep going. Keep going! Here it comes!

"You're there, Win!" he said over my screaming. "Just one…one m-more!"

I gasped a breath and let it out in another hard scream. Less than two seconds into it, the breath was stolen from my throat. Pain grabbed me then let go in an abrupt drop.

"You did it, Win!"

I felt a something slimy brush my thigh, followed immediately by the sensation of warm liquid pooling out of me. My knees dropped and my body shivered violently as I fought to refill my lungs and a new voice screamed into the darkness.

"W-Win…Win?" Edward said. "You awake? Win, say some…something."

That crying. It was like sirens!

"Win?" Ed's hand touched my leg. "Say something, W-Win. I can't see you."

Turn it off! Turn that thing off!

"Winry!"

I rolled onto my side and curled into myself, grabbing my hair and crying through a throat already burning with overuse. Ed's hand immediately left my leg. I was bare waist-down and he'd been sensitive to that.

"W-Win," he said. "It's…it's over."

"Shut it up!" I sobbed. "Make it stop!"

Edward was quiet. The air was empty again. Just my sobs and its screams.

Ed spoke. "I think…it's a girl."

"Make it stop!"

So loud! Too loud! Too much! Won't stop! Everything hurts! Everything's loud! It's crawling around in my body and in my head!

"Mom," I sobbed. "Mommy. I want Mom."

I'd been asking for my mother for days. I'd stopped being ashamed of it.

The crying didn't stop. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear Ed's soft voice speaking to the baby. The crying didn't stop. The crying didn't stop.

"Shut it up!" I said.

"She's a b-baby," said Edward. "I'm not…I'm not sure she knows how yet."

There was a long pause. The baby only screamed louder. Sandpaper! It was sandpaper! I dug my fingernails into my face and screamed over it. I felt Edward's hand brush my back. When he felt cloth, he let his hand rest. I caught the sound of him grunting through pain as he moved his injured legs to sit closer to me. His hand relocated to between my shoulders and he rubbed in little circles until my voice finally stopped screaming.

"It won't stop crying!" I said.

"I think she w-wants you," said Edward.

I shook my head. "No! No, I…!"

Ed rubbed between my shoulders. "You don't have to."

The crying was so close to me with the baby right there in Ed's arm, but I couldn't tell _him_ to go away.

"I'm not going to leave you," said Edward gently. "You can…can…you can…you c-can…can s-s-s..."

I sobbed. "Sleep?"

His hand patted my back. "Mm."

"I can't." I sniffled. "Those sirens keep…"

"The b-baby?"

I sobbed. Ed squeezed my shoulder.

"She's cold," he said.

So was I. I'd lost blood. I'd felt it. I could smell it. I was too tired, too sore to feel around for my underwear and shorts, but it wouldn't have mattered. They didn't serve much purpose besides covering me up. I'd been cloaking my bare legs with Edward's long button-down shirt for months, and I'd given that up for the baby to use.

"You did it, Win, " said Edward. "You did it. Did great job."

I bunched my hands around my ears and tried to concentrate on the warmth of Ed's hand on my back as pain and exhaustion slowly dragged me into restless sleep.

…

I'd hoped deep down that, when I woke, the initial shock would've worn off, but when the morning light hit my over-sensitive eyes and the baby's shrieking materialized once again to my ears, I found the noise was no less inhuman than it had been from the first moment I'd heard it. My eyes ached to cry, but I'd lost too many fluids and tears didn't come. I trembled. I was so weak. I could barely move. Everything hurt.

I felt Edward's hand on my back. "W-Win?"

My eyes trailed sluggishly over my post-baby bump. Blood everywhere. Ed must've been the one to pull my shorts back on for me. He'd put his socks and boots back on my feet too. I felt his closeness and wondered if he'd been keeping me warm with his body heat like we used to do. I thought about turning over to face him, but then the baby's close screaming reminded me that looking at Edward meant looking at it.

"W-Win," said Edward. "You awake?"

I nodded.

His hand rubbed my back more intentionally. "How you feel?"

"Hurts," I muttered.

"Sorry," he said. "You b-be okay?"

I nodded.

He gave my back a couple pats and pulled his hand away. The baby screamed like an undertone that never stopped, barely even to breathe. I wondered if it had been like this the whole time. Hours.

"I w-was right," said Edward. "She's…she's a little girl."

I curled into myself.

"You…you want to hold her?" Edward said quietly.

I curled tighter and shook my head.

"Okay," he said. "That's fine."

I held my ears. Edward's hand came back on my back and rubbed between my shoulders again. I tried to calm down. I tried. But there was just too much wrong.

"It's done," he said. "You did it. It's…it's over."

I let him speak to me, tried to comprehend his words. Just stay.

"It's over, Win," he continued to say. "It's over."

I trembled. "It's daybreak."

"Yeah. She's fine, Win. Just…just cold, I think." I knew he wanted to say 'hungry.'

"What happens when they see her?" I said.

"Don't know." His hand slowed from rubbing my back until it was barely rubbing at all. "P-Probably nothing. They…they knew she w-was coming. Didn't b-bother to interfere before."

There was an edge to his tone, some trace of bitterness. It was a dumbed down version of the betrayed tone he took on when he talked about his former commanding officer, Roy Mustang. Edward felt let down.

"Not Jones's fault," I said. "He did all he could, Ed."

Edward was quiet for a moment. "W-We did a good…a good job of m-making sure he w-was on a…on a tight leash the moment we needed him m-most."

"Yeah," I said.

"W-Win?"

"Mm?"

"You alright?" He let out a slow breath. "I m-mean…can you…do you think you can sit up?"

My muscles tensed.

"When they," Ed began. "When they come…I don't think I should…I should…should…I should p-p-p…"

"Put her down?" I said.

"Need to keep…keep her w-warm."

I hugged tight to my arms and closed my eyes from the light.

"She's not scary," Edward said. "Just…just loud."

I grabbed my ears, blood rushing to my head and burning my skin. "Try having one of those break out of your body and then tell me it's not scary! I don't want to think about it! Just make it shut up!"

"I…" Edward's breathing picked up. "I didn't…didn't m-mean…d-didn't m-m-m-m…"

His mouth got stuck on the words. It took a moment for it to click with me that it was a direct affect of my lashing out. As I lay there, listening to his panicked breaths, listening to the baby screaming louder through the distress, listening to my own angry panting, I felt my chest break with deep, tearless sobs. For a while, Edward just struggled in silence and I covered my face and tried to stop existing.

"W-Win," he said, finally. "If you don't…don't f-feed her…"

"I can't!"

"She'll get w-weak."

"I can't, Ed!"

"She'll die!" He took a shallow breath. "She's our b-baby. You said you liked her. You said!"

"No." I shook my head. "Not now. Can't take it. Don't want to think about it now. Just leave me alone."

"Then don't think!" he said. "Just do it! I w-went to wars. Went back. Again and again. Just turned my brain…my brain off. Just did it. No time to…to be scared. She's not expendable like a p-pair of shoes. She's not going to outlive your fear!"

I bit down on my lips. I wasn't an expert myself, but my parents _were_ doctors. Last I'd checked, mothers were supposed to nurse within the first few hours after birth. Or was it right after? How long had she been born?

"W-Win?" Edward's voice had become small. "Win, please. I don't…don't know what else to do."

I shivered. "Help me up."

There was a pause.

"Help me up!" I said

Ed helped me up one-handed. The other hand was reserved for the baby. I heard him grunt every time his injured legs jostled from the movement, but there was no helping it. My muscles gave out with the slightest attempt at use. Moving my legs made me cry out the first time as my hips rotated in their sockets. It'd felt like the baby had been ripping me apart on its way out. Now it felt like I might actually have been right.

"God!" I said, flopping back against the wall. I took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. I bit my lip and grimaced. The chain connected to my left wrist clanked as I repositioned my legs, trying to find something bearable. "Damn it!" I heard the baby scream. "I'll take it when I'm ready!" I said.

"Um," said Edward, "right."

I took a breath. I let it out through my nose. "Just be patient."

"Yeah."

I hugged my arms. The screaming just seemed to get louder. Was it getting louder? How could anything be louder than this?

"Just be patient, dammit!" I shouted.

Edward's hand reached out and gripped my wrist. My heart skipped as my fingertips came in contact with something warm and soft. My mind didn't have time to comprehend, to tell me to keep my eyes down. My breath got caught in my throat. I looked.

She didn't have much hair. Not surprising, given her blond parents. Ed had her wrapped up with care, enough cloth to double over the baby several times. He'd laid her against his bare chest with her curled-up body supported by his broad hand. Her face twisted and contorted as she cried, but I caught a glimpse of her eyes. Wide-set like Ed's. Big and baby blue. Ed had placed my finger gently against her little hand. She kept screaming in her red-faced, sandpaper shrieks. But her tiny fingers curled around my pinky and didn't let go.

I took a shaky breath. She was the softest thing I'd touched in over nine months.

"You w-want to hold her?" said Edward.

I nodded.

Edward helped me position my arms and he eased her gently into them. He handled her pretty expertly for someone who had admitted to never having held a baby before. I supposed he hadn't had much choice what with me down for the count. Like a lot of other things in his life, he'd just had to suck it up and learn as he went along.

My arms shook from nervousness and muscle exhaustion as Edward let her rest in my arms. He seemed to take notice and kept his hand against my elbow to support her small weight. She didn't weigh very much at all! She was tiny for a newborn, especially one nearly two weeks overdue. I looked at her screaming face. The shirt around her had felt soft when I'd worn it. Next to her skin, it seemed abrasive. All over the fabric were bright spots of dried blood from the night. I could see Ed had tried to wipe her off, but it had been so dark. She was still slightly smudged with blood and dried fluids. Edward was right about her probably feeling cold. Babies were born with naturally high body temperatures for self-preservation, but her movements were so shaky. She looked…

"She's positively miserable," I said.

My shoulders quaked. The way she was squirming in my arms, bunched up, uncomfortable in her own skin, felt like how she'd squirmed inside me every time I'd gotten upset and let it spread. I cradled her, feeling the curled-up curves of her tiny body through the shirt.

"How long," I said, "has she been crying like this?"

"F-Few hours," said Edward. "M-Maybe five or…or six? Never really stopped after she started, so…"

She'd sounded like a siren to me. I'd taken that as a bad thing. I'd yelled at her to shut up, to turn off, to tough it out. But she'd just kept going off. For six hours, she'd kept going. She really was like a siren, going off, trying to get my attention so I'd do something to save her.

"She's sweet, isn't she?" said Edward. He rubbed my arm, his thumb brushing gently against our baby's bundle. "I'm glad I got to…got to m-meet her."

My breath caught at the look on Ed's face. It was thin, subtle, and barely touched his eyes; but he was smiling at her.

"Glad she's here, Win," he said.

I hadn't seen Ed smile even once in weeks. It was too much. Before I could get the slightest handle on myself, I was leaning into his arm, cradling our baby close, and going through another meltdown. Ed pulled his arm around me and put his other hand at my elbow like a pillow under the baby's head. I felt him press his cheek into my hair as he stroked her flushed skin.

I rested my ear on Ed's shoulder and mumbled, "I need to feed her, don't I?"

Ed tensed. "Do I need to leave?"

The world 'leave' sent pins and needles through my veins. "Leave? Leave where?" I forced a laugh at the grim reality. "There's never been any access to privacy in this place before."

I felt Ed's arms slip away from me as he said, "Can at least give you this m-much."

The baby seemed to scream harder at losing Ed's touch. She and I were apparently feeling the same way. Ed leaned away from me and positioned his hand over his eyes.

"Okay," he said. "Go…go ahead. I w-won't look."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, spare me. What does it matter now? You've been into everything else."

I regretted the words the moment they'd left my mouth. Ed's hand tightened over his eyes. I really hadn't meant for it to come off as anything but joking, but I knew how Edward was. I'd learned how his ears worked. Sarcasm about things he took seriously didn't register as sarcasm. It just didn't.

"Sorry," he said.

"No," I said. "Edward, no. I didn't mean it like that. I…" My head hung. "I'm tired. I'm sore. Just completely spent. I don't care who sees my boobs."

"You know I think a lot more of you than…than that," he said quietly.

"No, I know you do. I wasn't saying otherwise. I was…"

His eyes met mine. "You're not ruined, Winry. Not to me." For a split-moment, Edward held my gaze with a sincerity that was enough to wrench my heart. Then he lowered his gaze and frowned. "Sorry. That…that sounded really bad."

I shook my head, ready to tell him it hadn't sounded bad. Ready to tell him to say it again.

Then the metal door clanked.


	5. Layla

**A/N: Hey, all! Got you another long chapter. This fic just calls for the longer chapters, I think. No problem with that. Read on!**

* * *

Chapter 5: Layla

Jones burst through the door ahead of his monsters like an angry father trying to catch his child in the act of doing something very wrong. I could see Ed trembling in my peripheral. Jones's gaze shot down the stairs to where I'd huddled against the wall. His eyes locked onto the screaming baby in my arms. He paled.

"You…" Jones's wide eyes trailed around the bloodstained floor and back to the baby and me.

Edward's arm shot out in front of me like a protective screen. "Get this m-m-morning over…over w-with, Jones."

I held the baby close, turned her face toward me to keep her out of view. Something in me didn't want her to be put on display. Jones's monsters shuffled through, leaning their heads, analyzing the scene with fascination. Jones just stood there.

I heard Edward let out a harsh breath through gritted teeth as the monsters' eyes ogled around his outstretched arm for a glimpse. Ed was restraining anger.

"Quit your gawking," boomed Jones. "You heard the little man. We got work to do."

Edward's shoulders sank slightly. His breath was relieved. He kept his arm up as the monsters passed one after the other, but I saw the quiver in his fractured hand. He was scared of them. His need to protect simply outdid his fear.

Edward was stuttering worse, I noticed. The moment he had to leave the baby and me by ourselves, his words just fragmented. Jones, on the other hand, was surprisingly accommodating. Shockingly so. He didn't even try to pretend to be impatient with Ed. He even went so far as to position his broad body between me and the others' wandering eyes while Ed worked.

"S-S-So, you j-just…you just…you just d-d-do it like…l-like that," Ed explained, pointing to a drawing I couldn't see.

I watched the back of Jones's head nod. "Right. Plain and simple. Nicely done, Elric. I'd say the rest is up to our thick heads to wrap around, hey? Murray will be the first to understand, as usual."

Ed kept his eyes down.

"Look it over, boys," said Jones. "I got business to discuss with the professor."

I tensed up as I watched Jones put his hand out for Ed to take. Ed flinched away; looked like he didn't really know he was doing it. Jones actually seemed hurt as he backed off.

"Why don't you head back to the wall," said Jones. "I want the girl to hear this as well."

Ed seemed to think about it before nodding. He had to crawl to me. His legs had only been healing for six weeks and not in a good environment. Still couldn't stand. Jones came patiently behind with sad eyes that told me he knew full well the damage he'd done to Edward, knew full well just how much his fault it was. Jones met my eyes with similar guilt. Like he felt he'd had a hand in all this.

Ed was already busy touching the baby's screaming cheek and hushing her as soon as he'd sat down. Jones stood a few feet in front of us, a respectable distance. For a while, he just watched us. He'd had time to study the scene of the crime. Now he was taking in the aftermath, the result of the little adventure.

"What are you going to do to her?" I said.

Ed whipped his gaze to me with warning in his eyes. I'd never spoken directly to Jones before. Not a single word in over nine months. Jones just looked down at the bundle and blinked.

"So," he said. "It's a girl then?"

"She…" Ed began. "She isn't for…for s-sale."

Jones shook his head in seriousness. "Roberts don't give a rat's ass about your kid. I was curious. No worries."

Ed frowned. "What d-do you…d-do you…d-d-do you…?"

"Want?" said Jones.

I caught Ed's face pinking slightly. He nodded and looked away quickly.

Jones reached into his coat and pulled out a rolled up magazine. He dropped it on the ground in front of us.

"Thought you might want to take a look," said Jones. "See what you think. Roberts liked what you said about putting the whores to work. Got a new market out for something about robotic prosthetics, turn amputees into guns and cannons. I don't really understand it. Strange stuff, but it sells. Anyway, since we're chopping your limbs off eventually, Roberts figures, why not make you our guinea pig for the new project after we got your alchemy? Got a magazine right there full of models and all that. The lovely lady can flip through, see if she's interested in joining the girls with assembling when the project kicks off. Better than sitting around down here."

I stared across the floor at the rolled up magazine lying there. Robot gun legs? Was he serious?

"Automail?" said Edward.

Jones paused. "You know it?"

"M-Military…" said Edward. "M-m-military discouraged mass-production. Concept was too flawless. P-P-People could…c-could s-smuggle…conceal weapons just by…j-just by…"

"Exactly," said Jones. "Too hard for the government to contain if it got mainstream. That's why we're going for it."

"Good m-move," said Edward. His tone was legitimately impressed.

"Anyhow." Jones glanced over his shoulder then looked back at us and sighed. "Roberts has been catching onto how you got this alchemy stuff memorized. He's not just wanting to keep you as a test subject. You've turned into quite the asset these past months, Elric. I've gotten the okay to play good cop, keep you cooperative. Play your cards right and things may not turn out quite as bloody tragic as they've been going."

I watched Ed take a slow, shaky breath. He looked at Jones with eyes that said Edward had a lot to say, but his jaw flexed like he was well aware he'd just end up stuttering again. Instead, Ed nodded his respect.

"Good cop," said Edward. "Does that…does that m-mean you're allowed to b-b-bring us a blanket…or something? Win's in shorts down here."

"You don't seem to be in much else," chuckled Jones. A little baffling, Jones began shrugging off the long leathery trench coat he himself was wearing. He tossed it next to me and I jumped. "That'll do you. There. Pre-warmed and everything. Enjoy. This is a one-time thing, understand?"

My eyes locked on the pile of thick brown leather heaped beside me. Was it lined with fur? It looked so warm. Like a nest. Like a bed! Jones knelt down slowly and spoke in a quieter, more private tone.

"Listen," he said. "You tell a soul I said this and I'll deny it, understand? But…I am sorry."

Ed nodded.

Jones looked over at the screaming baby again. "Got a pair of lungs, that one."

I sighed. "I know."

Jones smiled a little. "You named her yet?"

Ed looked at me then back at Jones and shook his head.

"Make it something pretty," said Jones.

"Like what?" I said.

Jones blinked. "Pardon?"

"What's something pretty?" I said.

Jones frowned. "I don't know. Princess stuff and all that. Daisy, Rosie, Lily. Girlie shit."

Girly shit for Jones apparently meant naming your child after a flower?

"Had a sister called Layla," said Jones. He chuckled to himself. "She wasn't any kind of princess, though. More like evil queen. Used to make me kiss her hand and go to tea with her dolls." Jones cleared his throat, expression smoothing. "Anyway."

He stood. The way Ed was looking up at him made me think Ed hadn't heard of Jones having a sister before. Ed's expression was pained. It was clear enough the sister had been spoken of in past tense.

"Layla's p-p-pretty," said Edward. Jones seemed to do a double take at the words. Ed shrugged. "I…I don't get stuck on the…on the sounds."

I took a breath. It wasn't like Ed to mention anything about his struggle with speech, never so clinically. I looked at Jones and nodded in agreement. "Layla's pretty."

Jones's ruddy face tinted red. He looked to the side. "Well, you go on and do what you want. I, uh, got things to take care of, so…"

Jones and his men left the room.

…

After months of Ed going shirtless in the autumn and winter cold, I finally got to give him his coat back. The look of pure relief as he pulled the warm sleeves over his scarred arms and shoulders was something to behold. Ed fastened the article at the front and made the closest expression to smiling one could do without really smiling.

"Damn, f-feels good," he said.

Damn, feels good was right! After Ed got his jacket on, he helped cloak me in Jones's donated coat. I could've cried at the rush of warmth and softness enveloping me. I probably would have if I hadn't been too dehydrated for easy tears.

Ed overlapped the brown coat over the baby in my arms a little. "There. Nice and w-warm."

"I…" I looked at our screaming child. "I better feed her now that we're alone."

Ed tensed and nodded. He began to pick himself up to give me space. I reached out and touched his arm.

"Just look the other way or something," I said.

"Oh." He must've seen something in my face, because he eased himself back down without a fight. "Um, yeah. Sure. That w-works too."

As Ed tilted his gaze down, I looked at my baby and realized with sudden terror that I had no idea what to do next. I bit my lip and tried to go over it in my head. It couldn't have been that complicated. It was as simple as a peg in a hole, right? This kid had built-in feeding instincts. I'd just get her close and she'd do the rest for me.

I cradled her in one arm and tugged at the front of my blouse. It was supposed to button all the way down, but for months I'd only been able to fasten the top ones. My post-bump still poked through. It had been somewhat embarrassing as an article of clothing, more used as a layer for added warmth than anything. The bra had been for warmth too. Now my lactating boobs were barely getting circulation in the tight satin cups. I cringed as my fingers finally fumbled open the buttons on my blouse, the realization hitting that I now had to figure out how I was supposed to unhook my bra one-handed in my current state.

"Um, Ed?"

He kept his eyes down. "Yeah?"

"Will you," I felt my face warming, "take her…for a minute?"

"Uh, yeah. Okay."

He didn't make any move and I realized he was waiting for me to place her in his arms. My face burned. We'd been sharing one room with no curtains or doors for over nine months straight. I'd gotten over salvaging dignity or propriety a long time ago, but Ed acting so nervous at me breastfeeding next to him made me feel embarrassed all over again. Carefully, I placed our child in his ready arms.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

Ed nodded.

I winced at the movement necessary to reach my bra hooks. All the way back. My body was barely able to reach forward.

"Hey, W-Win?" said Edward. "Everything okay over there?"

"Fine," I said. Oh, God. They weren't unhooking. "Just fine. Almost done."

"Take your time," said Edward quickly.

Finally, the battle ended and the bra popped open. I cringed. I practically had to peel it off. Worse, the fabric inside was wet. The rumor about moms leaking breast milk at the sound of infants crying was apparently true. Or I was just overflowing. Good God. Was this what the stuff was supposed to look like?

"Oh, this is so gross," I whispered to myself as I maneuvered the bra through my sleeves. I folded it and tucked it behind me. No one needed to see that.

"You say something?" said Ed.

"Nothing," I said. "I can take her now."

Ed waited for me to take her from him. I appreciated the gesture and everything, but every movement put me in pain and bending over wasn't fun, especially not with my chest exposed. I sat back and rotated the baby in my arms. Dang it. What angle was she supposed to be at for this to work? My boobs were already getting sore without the bra supporting them. Would being nursed out of help or hurt?

"Damn it," I whispered. "Sorry, baby. I'm new at this too."

I let out a breath and just went for it. I cradled her head and pressed her cheek against my breast, praying things would just fall into place from there. Of course, the little red-faced shrieking infant remained a little red-faced shrieking infant. She squirmed and writhed without much regard to anything, much as usual. I got a sudden sinking feeling that leaving her to get hungry for hours on end may have really backfired. Instincts or not, she didn't know what hunger was at this point. All she knew was she didn't feel good.

I hugged the fur-lined coat over her and tried swaddling her bald head with Ed's old shirt as best as I could.

"Hush, baby," I said. "Hush, Layla. It's okay. You're okay."

I kept my hand cradled under her head and gently began to stroke the side of her soft face. I pressed her cheek to my breast and tried again.

"Come on, Layla," I said. "It's okay."

"You're really calling her that?" said Edward.

I paused. "Um, yeah. I thought…"

"No, I…" Ed nodded. "I like it too. I just…didn't know if you w-were serious about…about calling her that."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I was."

I touched the tip of my pinky finger to Layla's mouth, trying to trigger some sucking. She was so busy being upset. I had my doubts she even knew my nipple was there. But the instincts were there, so if I could just stimulate something, just get her attention for one moment.

I gasped. Layla's cries became fragmented as she began to take pauses to push the tip of her tongue against her lips. Now I had her! I turned her face to my breast, slipped my pinky away, and replaced it with my…

"Son of a—!" I closed my eyes tightly. "Damn, that hurts!"

"You okay?" Ed asked. I saw his tight features as he kept his eyes down.

I swallowed. "No, I'm fine. She's just…good God, this kid's got suction."

Ed blinked. His face showed a trace of a smile. I watched in slight disbelief as the smile widened and Ed's body quaked with gentle laughter.

"You're so f-funny," he said.

"And," I said, "you're laughing."

Ed's smile dropped into something more like remorse. "Oh. Sorry."

"No, I mean, you just laughed." I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see it. "Been a while since I've seen you do that."

Ed seemed to think about this for a moment. His eyes softened and he smiled again. "Guess you're right. Haven't…haven't b-been paying...paying attention."

I felt Layla's little body relax in my arms as she warmed and nursed. The first moments of feeding her really had been painful. After that it was just a little sore, though. I found myself becoming more relaxed nursing her as well.

"You're hilarious," said Edward.

"Hm?"

"You didn't even notice, did you?" He folded his arms and sat back with his eyes closed. "She stopped screaming, Win."

"Of course I…" my voice trailed off. No, I hadn't noticed. Not really. All I'd done for hours after she was born was yell at her to shut up. Now that she had, it didn't seem to be that big a deal. Her being quiet didn't solve things. Her being loud didn't ruin them. The thought hit me hard. "Guess you're right, Ed." I frowned as I found myself choking up all over again. "Don't…don't tell her I was so mean to her at the beginning."

"Mean?" said Edward. "No. You w-were as terrified as she was, Win. No shame in that." He sighed. "But don't worry. I w-won't tell her any of it. She doesn't…doesn't need to know her beginning."

Not any of it.

As Layla calmed down more and more in my arms, I caught her looking up at me. I breathed nervously as she locked her gaze with mine and didn't let go. She was looking right at me. And I got this wonderful, petrifying feeling that she knew exactly who I was.

"Hi, Layla," I said. "I see you there."

"She's looking at you?" said Edward.

"Yeah," I said with a laugh. "She won't look away."

"Told you you're the one she…she wanted."

"She was hungry."

"She w-wanted her mom." Ed cracked a smile. "And there's nothing you can do about…about it."

I was going to reply, but then he sighed a long sigh and rubbed his closed eyes and something clicked in my mind. Oo.

"Hey, Ed?"

"Mm?"

"You haven't slept in over twenty-four hours," I said. "Right?"

"Don't know," he said. "What time is it?"

"Ed."

"I'm," he yawned, "I'm f-fine, Win."

"I think I've got this feeding thing figured out," I said. "You should sleep while you can."

"You sure?"

I nodded. "My turn to nap next."

"Mm." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Y-You…you really are something else."

My face felt a little warm for a moment. "Get some rest, Daddy."

"Yeah." He chuckled softly with tired breaths. "W-W-Wake me if you need me, M-Mom."

Mom. He'd stuttered it, but it was still the word, and he'd used it instead of using my name. And I'd used _Daddy_ as his name.

"Ed," I said. "We're parents."

"W-We are, aren't we? Surreal, kind of. Never…never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm glad you're here to see it."

I saw his mouth turn down. "N-No, I mean, never really planned on…on having kids, you know? I'm…I'm so messed up. Getting m-married…babies…all seemed wrong. F-For me. See, I…I can't get it right. They die or leave or…or…turns out they never…never cared in the f-first p-p-place. Ended up abandoning Al on accident after everything. Never v-visited him as m-much as I said I would. Just kept p-promising 'cause I was…I was afraid he'd die if I didn't give him dumb stuff to hope f-for. Actually…actually thought…actually thought I'd come through f-f-for once and then I never came back. And then you…and now Layla too…" His brow crinkled. "Just can't get this damn thing right. But I'm getting to do it anyway."

"You're a good daddy," I said. "And a great best friend. Take it from me. You looked out for your mom and brother even though it meant getting hurt. You're a human shield, Ed. If you haven't been getting it right all this time, there's no hope for the rest of us."

He opened his eyes and stared at the wall.

"Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about," I said softly.

"That really w-what you think?" he said.

"Yes."

"I w-wish my brain worked like yours." He sounded sincere.

Ed closed his eyes again and fell into sleep. Not long after, Layla unlatched and went right back to crying. I propped her tiny body up and patted her back until she made this tiny hiccup-sound that I assumed might be a burp. The crying eased as her tummy settled. I fixed my shirt and rested her against my chest. According to Ed, she hadn't slept yet since she'd been born. I didn't have to be a doctor to know that wasn't normal. I rubbed her back gently and tried to lull her into sleep.

"Hey, baby," I said. "Hey. I got you. You're okay."

She buried her face in my blouse, her tiny fingers opening and closing against the fabric. I tilted my chin down and kissed her head. She grunted. The sound made me smile. Her noises were so tiny.

"That's right, Layla," I whispered. "You can sleep."

I listened to her sleeping breaths mingling with her father's. Like whispers and sighs. I yawned. Couldn't fall asleep with her in our arms or we risked smothering her in our sleep. Couldn't put her on the floor or she might get sick or freeze or be attacked by rats. Just had to take shifts being her human cradle. That's all there was to it.

I felt my eyelids droop. I blinked hard, forcing myself into alertness. A matter of inches in front of me, that robotic prosthetic weapon magazine caught my eye. I winced as I reached for it with my military-booted foot, rolling it toward me with the back of my heel.

Automail. Sounded stupid.

…

"No, it's not stupid, Ed," I said excitedly. "I mean, yeah, the pinky-cannon is a little excessive, but look beyond the accessories and focus on the quality of the piece. It's gorgeous!"

Ed raised a brow. "Sorry, not really m-my style."

I flipped the glossy page. "Okay, what about this? This is how it looks without the add-ons."

Ed took a glance before looking back at the screaming infant rested in his lap. "Better, I guess."

"You guess?" I folded the worn out magazine and swatted his shoulder. "You could at least pretend to sound interested."

Ed cracked a smile. "You're not the one getting your arms replaced w-with metal, Win."

"Yeah, but," I pouted, "it's still interesting."

Ed pulled Layla up to lean her head on his shoulder, whispering sweetly to her. "Don't worry, pumpkin. M-Mommy's just kidding. She wouldn't turn Daddy into some scary-ass cyborg tank."

I grinned past the pages. "Oh, wouldn't I?"

"I'm kind of…kind of scared to find out how it'll be when these guys put a wrench in your hand."

I laughed to myself. Ed liked giving me a hard time about this stuff. He liked having something to joke about that wasn't life or death. Layla…she didn't like much of anything.

She was a couple weeks old, old enough for us to have realized that the fussiness didn't just happen with neglect. It just happened. I wasn't an expert or anything, but it didn't seem normal for newborns to scream non-stop anytime they weren't eating or sleeping. I mean, it could be normal, could it? Sleep came frequently but never lasted very long. Eating came relatively frequently too, but that was mostly because Layla spat up as often as she ate. Her tummy never seemed quite settled. She always seemed to be burping or hiccupping or writhing; something to indicate she was miserable as ever.

Ed had done what he could with what we had when he'd cut her cord and tied it off, but it was messy. Really messy work. Inevitably, the little leftover stump was showing clear signs of infection by Layla's second day. Hard to manage, given our filthy surroundings and lack of access to any kind of disinfectant. Besides that, once she started nursing, she also started the cycle of peeing and pooping and all that good stuff. Pretty hard to keep _those_ areas clean, too.

Jones had been a real lifesaver in that respect. I'd been going through the first automail magazine when Ed and I had realized that the pages could double as makeshift diapers. Or something like diapers. Jones caught us doing it the next day and just about bitten our heads off for wasting materials. He'd brought us a few new automail magazines the morning after that he insisted we use for reading only, along with a stack of classified documents he wanted us to safely 'dispose' of. Yeah, Jones pretty much enacted a system to bury touchy information in baby crap. Couldn't deny it was hilarious, and even Jones's monsters cracked up when they caught on.

'I don't think he realizes I know the code f-for these documents,' Ed had told me. 'Or m-maybe he does.'

In spite of our system, though, makeshift document-diapers weren't really diapers. Layla had rashes and spots all over her little butt. Her skin never stopped looking irritated. She always seemed to be clawing at herself and her tiny baby-nails scraped her face until it bled in places, Ed and I implemented another system where we bundled her arms immobile. She really hated that. Any kind of restriction of movement did not sit easy with that child. I'd tried to drape my blouse or the thick coat over her while she nursed to limit my exposure, but she made it quite clear she preferred the open air. She'd keep screaming until she'd gotten what she wanted, too. Only when everything was right would she settle enough to eat, and then she'd be going for it so hard that it would hurt. Nothing we did seemed to be right by her. She was two weeks old and we were already failures by her standards.

'Well,' Edward had said. 'Takes a load off us, I guess.'

It was exhausting, but I wasn't sure it was exhausting in the same way people normally thought of with new parents. It wasn't just the crying and the feeding schedule and interrupted sleep. It wasn't even the diapers and spit-up. It was her. Every moment was a battle. Risking the discouragement and bitterness that came with blaming her, or risking the far worse pain that came with blaming ourselves. We hadn't known what we were doing, not from day one. Every time we figured out some new thing about her, it felt pathetic.

"Hey, Win," Edward said, nudging me with his elbow. "She's acting hungry."

I put down the automail catalog and began undoing my shirt with a sigh. Third time since Jones and his guys had left for the morning. Edward gave her to me when I was ready. This had all gotten so routine. He didn't back away, curl up, and cover his closed eyes anymore. He just kept his eyes up as much as he could and if I flashed him, he didn't stare.

Layla screamed and wriggled. I cradled her and went through the motions.

"Hey, baby," I cooed. "Hush, hush. You're okay, Layla. Come on. You hungry?"

After a while of this, I finally convinced her to just go ahead and eat. Of course, when she did, she sucked like I'd been holding out on her for hours. I winced.

"Damn, she is not an easy customer," I said.

Ed shrugged. "I don't really like m-milk either."

I snorted.

Ed quirked a brow. "What?"

"Nothing," I said. I looked down at Layla. "God. I don't know what's up with this girl. It's like she's got a love-hate relationship with everything on the planet."

Ed laughed. "It's a good thing b-babies are cute."

I groaned. "Yeah. That about sums it up."

"You're a trooper," he said. "Real good…real good mom."

He patted my head a couple times in a way that was almost teasing. His eyes expressed genuine appreciation, though. He hugged his knees loosely and looked forward, his gentle smile still in place.

"Thanks, Ed." I elbowed him. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Aw, I'm touched."

Layla grunted and coughed. I rolled my eyes and got to burping her. It was like she'd developed some kind of talent for getting bubbles. Sometimes I found myself burping her two or three times in one meal, and then she'd puke up half of it at the end anyway.

"You need m-me to take her?" said Ed.

"No, thanks. She's not done. Well, I don't think she is."

"Oh." He frowned. "P-Poor kid. Just can't get comfortable."

"I know the feeling," I grumbled.

"Hey, gear-head," he said with a glance. "Tell m-me more about that automail stuff. That should…should cheer you up."

I blinked. Was he secretly interested, or was he honestly willing to listen to me spout off for the sake of my mood? "Um," I said. "Well, what do you want to know? I only know what I read from those magazines."

He knit his brow. "I was…I was wondering what gets you so excited about it. I mean, at first it w-was kind funny. Now I'm…I'm starting to wonder what you see in it." He looked me in the eye. "I know what automail is. I w-was a State Alchemist, for crying out loud. Done my research years back. Just…just never found any of it less than terrifying."

I swallowed hard. Ed looked forward again, his expression tightening as he shifted his knees.

"Ed," I said. "How are your legs doing?"

He shook his head. "They're weak. They hurt. They swell up sometimes, but nothing's really turned b-black yet and I can still feel them. W-What's to…what's to complain about?"

"You think you might be able to walk on them soon?"

He frowned. He looked at me for a moment then looked at his knees. "I think it's a w-waste of time. I think they'll be gone in a couple or more months and you know it."

"Yeah," I said. "That's what I thought. You're scared."

"Should I not be?" he said. His breath trembled. "You're looking at…at parts and…p-p-parts and designs. I'm looking at surgery, Win. It's…it's not going to be fun."

"You've had worse, right?" I said.

He smiled bitterly. "God, I'm so sick of people talking to me like getting hurt a thousand times m-makes number a thousand and one any less painful."

My eyes widened. I paused from patting Layla's back. I put my hand on his arm. "Ed?"

He shook his head. "You don't understand. I've known guys who w-went for these prosthetics. Automail serves the m-military. Doesn't serve men."

Layla made her little burping sound and I lowered her back to the crook of my arm to continue nursing. As I felt Layla relax, I could practically feel Edward's tension in the air.

"Did you really want to know why I find it interesting?" I said. "Or did you bring it up because you needed to vent? It sounds like you've already made up your mind."

"I…" He hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."

I smiled gently. "Yeah."

"It's just…" He hugged his arms. "W-We aren't on humane ground here. This doesn't sound like a simple automail surgery and recovery. Called me…called me their guinea pig, remember? I'll only be connected to each m-model long enough to test it. It's not natural, making your nerves…making your nerves…nerves link up w-with metal. Not what we're built for. Doesn't seem possible."

I nodded. "Yep, pretty much describes my sentiments when you were yelling at me to push."

He met my eyes for a moment. "Not helping."

"Sorry."

He shook his head.

My reasons for taking an interest in automail weren't all that spectacular. Interest. That's all there really was behind it.

For one, my introduction to automail had started with _reading_. I hadn't read anything but tallies on a wall in nine some odd months. Hadn't felt pages in my hand, smelled that magazine smell. Words on a page meant some form of distraction, brain activity, something to do with myself besides nurse, burp, and repeat.

The second thing that had intrigued me had been the concept of automail itself. As much pain as it would put Edward through, the methods were nothing short of incredible. He was right when he said it shouldn't be possible. Wires lining up with nerve endings, currents of electricity communicating with synapses in the brain to turn metal into working limbs. It was every doctor's dream, to be able to give life rather than just trying to put it back together. Back home, I'd been determined to do what everyone in my family did; go to college and enter the medical profession in some shape, form, or fashion. This was different, though. Doctors saved amputees. Doctors rehabilitated amputees. Doctors didn't give amputees their limbs back at the end.

Automail mechanics did, though.

Upon graduating, I'd thought about going into some form of physical or occupational therapy to help people rehabilitate from conditions or old injuries. But this automail thing, this was something I could really get into. And, thing was, I had a feeling I'd be good at it. That was what had really grabbed my interest. How much all this made sense to me. How quickly I was picking up both the biological and mechanical elements without trouble. How my mind was already constructing models that could be used for helping with Layla instead of blowing up tanks with a pinky cannon. How maybe the pain involved with automail could be curbed if the mechanic focused less on making it a weapon. This was one thing I could have control over, one thing I could actually do. I was holding onto it.

…

I dozed on the ground, taking my turn while Edward took Layla. He always took her with a smile. Every time. Such welcoming hands when she was offered up to him. She'd scream and squirm, one of the least welcoming children you could picture, and Ed would smile and take her like he'd missed her while I'd been holding her.

In and out of sleep, I caught him speaking quiet words to her, speaking like he sometimes had for me when I'd needed to hear his peaceful voice after a nightmare. He always stuttered less when he spoke to Layla. I doubted he'd realized that.

"You're a good-looking baby," he said with a smile in his voice. "I mean, not to say there's any thing as a…as an ugly baby. But you're pretty. Like your mom. And like my mom."

I felt my cheeks warm. He could seriously call me pretty while I was hidden beneath nine months of filth and sweat? I hadn't seen a mirror since being thrown into this dungeon and I was glad for it.

Ed chuckled as Layla continued to shriek. "Yeah, bet you'd look even better after a bath and some f-fresh clothes, kiddo. Like a picture in a catalog. But, what can you do?" Ed sighed. He was quiet. "You two don't belong down here." Another pause. "But I'm glad. I hope you can forgive m-me for that."

He asked Layla for forgiveness just like he did from me, like maybe all this time he wasn't even looking for a reply. Just felt the need to say it.

"Moms are incredible," he said softly. "Really. You wouldn't believe all the stuff yours has done for you already, and you're only a couple weeks old. I mean, my mom was only fifteen when she had me, but she did her best. She grew up for me, Layla. She tried to. Can't…can't say the same for m-my dad. I don't think he ever grew up. He just…did what he wanted. I remember when I was eight. Mom said Dad wanted another baby. She was so excited. I think…I think she was hoping she'd do a better job this time. Or maybe it would make him stay more."

I bit my lip and wished I could just fall back asleep already. I'd heard this story once before and it had been hard to hear. Harder than I think Ed realized.

"Al w-was excited too," said Edward. "I don't know how I felt. I just remember seeing Mom's tummy and thinking that as soon as that new life was out, I'd spend the rest of m-my life trying to keep my dad from hurting it. Doesn't…doesn't matter, though. He got too rough with mom one night and she must've miscarried or something, because after that, there was no more baby."

I winced.

"Didn't seem fair. She'd been working so hard, growing that little person inside her, and he ended it. He killed his own child, intentional or not. A year or so later, he kills his wife. Damn it, Layla. All I know about being your dad is not to be like my dad. Is that okay? I m-mean, it seems to be working out so far. I'd model myself after Hughes," Ed laughed, "but I wouldn't know where to begin. I just don't think that's…that's me."

Hughes. One older man in Edward's life who'd managed to gain and keep Edward's full trust. Up until his death a few years back, of course.

"I'm so messed up," said Edward. "And you're the only one who doesn't see it. And I f-feel stronger when I've got you. I think it's because…it's because you don't know how w-weak I am. It…changes my expectations for m-myself. So what if I can't talk? Can't walk? No problem. Don't need to…to do all that for Layla. She just needs warm arms and I got those." His laugh was melancholy. "For now."

His words made me want to force myself into full alertness and tell him I didn't expect him to walk or talk straight. Tell him he was doing great and I didn't have any kind of expectations. Somehow, I doubted that was what he was saying, though.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered, almost as if to himself. "It's happening all over again. Always a prisoner. Just a prisoner protecting the other prisoners until the day it stops being enough. Dad used to tell me…to tell me not to cry. Because crying m-meant it was his fault. So…so how do I forgive myself when my child and her mother never stop crying?"

I took in a sharp breath. Ed paused in talking to Layla.

"W-Win?" he said. "You awake?"

I opened my droopy eyelids and looked up at him. "Half."

"Oh," he said. His skin was pinker than usual. "Um, sorry f-f-for disturbing you. You can…you can sleep."

I shook my head, still curled on the ground, partly wishing I _could_ go back to sleep. But not after what he'd said. "Edward," I said softly. "You're not to blame for all this. For any of it."

His face turned pinker. "You…you w-were listening?"

"Half," I said. "Was trying to fall asleep."

"Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have b-been talking."

"I think she likes it," I said.

Ed looked down at Layla in his arms, heavy eyes watching her grimacing face. "You…really think so?"

"Yes."

A smile touched his lips. "That's nice."

"Edward," I said. "You're better than your father."

Ed looked at me then looked away like it had been harder to meet my eyes than he'd bargained for. "Same result," he muttered.

"No," I said.

"F-Feels like it, though, doesn't it?" he said.

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

He nodded. But he didn't speak.

"So," I said. "You've decided to forgive yourself."

Ed's gaze sharpened, pinning on me. "W-What?"

"A moment ago," I said. "You were talking to Layla. You asked how you would ever forgive yourself for how much she and I cry."

Ed's frown wasn't necessarily angered. It was confused.

I smiled. "Apparently you see forgiveness as an option."

…

Late that night, Ed woke me up insisting I take my shift with Layla early. He practically dropped her in my arms before crawling to the corner and vomiting repeatedly over the bucket. At first he claimed it was just jitters and flashbacks making his stomach turn, but then the fever came in the morning and Ed was curled up against the wall in a sweat by mid-afternoon. His fever broke later the next evening and he slept it off, but then I started to notice Layla wasn't crying in the usual irritable screams. She'd begun to whimper, a weaker, more strained kind of cry. Her movements were frail writhes. Her skin was flushed a sickly yellow. She didn't keep anything down and, by the next afternoon, she stopped trying to eat.

…

"This is all my fault," Ed muttered to himself. "This is all m-my fault."

I rocked Layla in my arms. Her body was shaking all over. She was barely making any sounds at all now. Just the occasional pathetic whimper. God, she'd gotten so pale. Practically gray!

"Don't understand," I said. "She was fine. Everything was fine."

Ed hunched, covering his face with his hand. "I got my baby sick!"

"Why isn't she snapping out of it? It only took you a day. You were fine. Why isn't she getting better?"

"I did this!"

I held Layla close and nuzzled her hot face. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks. I sobbed hard.

"Just keep breathing," I cried. "Please, baby. Please."

…

Ed and I curled up against each other that night. Layla stayed in my arms and we watched her movements, listened to her shallow cries. She didn't improve. Just coasted or plummeted. There was nothing we could do now but wait.

"I'm an idiot," I sobbed.

"This isn't your f-fault."

"I take it back," I said. "I take it all back. I _do_ want to be a mom, Ed. I do! I want to be her mom. Right now. I'm ready. I want to be her mom!"

Ed's body shivered. His breathing was tight. "I can't do anything for her."

"I don't care how much she screams," I said. "I don't care. I don't care that she never stops crying. I don't care that I'm too young. I want to be a mom."

"Win," said Edward.

"I swear I'll be her mom. I won't complain anymore. I swear!"

"Win," said Edward. I felt his hand tighten on my shoulder. "No one's listening."

No one hears us down here.

I leaned my damp cheek against Layla's burning forehead and sobbed. Ed held me with a hand over the bundle in my arms. Every so often, his finger would pet her hand and his breaths would become just a little shakier.

"She's still here?" he said.

"She's here."

I felt him nod. He spoke with a weak voice. "She's…going to die, isn't she?"

I shook.

Ed's body quaked. "Damn that Colonel!" The break in Ed's voice caught me off guard. He was crying. He sniffled quietly. "Alchemy's not really a w-weapon. Did I ever tell you that, Win? It original purpose was for healing. I could…I could've healed her by now. She'd b-be fine. That bastard Colonel. He's killed m-more people than he could ever save!"

"Teach me," I said. "Teach me now, Ed! Draw the circle. I'll do it. I'll heal her!"

"It would take you years to learn something that advanced," said Ed.

"I can try!"

"If alchemy was that simple, you'd be out of here by now!"

"Ed, please!" I cried. "There's got to be something I can do for her. Just to get her to tomorrow. We can ask Jones for medicine or something next time he comes in. If you know something, anything…"

Ed took his arm off me. He rested stiffly against the wall, barely brushing my side. He did his best not to touch, not to speak, not to be there. He was like that for a while and it took me a minute to realize he wasn't just taking a meaningful pause. He'd ended the conversation. I felt my eyes burn with sharper tears as Ed's silence ate away. Layla's muted whimpers hung in the stillness.

"You…" I paused. "You know something, don't you?"

Ed was quiet for a moment. I heard him breathe. "Nothing you can do."

I swallowed through a fleeting moment of combined hope and fear. The way he'd embellished 'you.' He meant there _was_ something, just something that wasn't up to me.

Ed continued. His voice was rigid as he strained to get up on his wobbly legs. "There's a f-forbidden alchemy that…that'll restore what Mustang took from me. I can try it."

I watched his moonlit form come to the center of the room. He stumbled to his knees and started brushing his hands along the stone floor. A chill ran over me. Something in Ed's voice and movements had changed drastically. Almost mechanical.

"Ed?" I said.

"I don't m-mind Layla's crying either," he said. "I never did. It was…it was the first sound I ever heard her make, so, I don't mind it. I like the sound of her voice."

I stroked Layla's soft face and sniffled. "Yeah?"

"I don't really know what a…what a dad is," he continued, picking up a fragment of chalk from a crack in the stone and beginning to draw. "B-But if this is it, then I like being a dad. I like her. I've always liked her."

I watched him draw. He was drawing a transmutation circle, a big one. Biggest one I'd seen him do by far. It went all across the floor and the parts I could make out were intricate beyond anything he'd shown to Jones and the monsters.

"She's m-my daughter," said Ed. "I'm supposed to protect her. No matter…no matter what."

He sounded like he was talking himself into something.

My heart pounded. I came to my feet. "Ed, what's going on? If getting your alchemy back was that simple, you would've done it by now."

"They call it the taboo," he said. "A transmutation anyone can activate. No prior study or training needed. Once is all it takes and every secret alchemy has to offer is yours. That's the theory behind it, anyway."

"Theory?" I came forward, as far as the chain locked to my wrist would allow me. "You never told me about this theory." Something in me felt very wronged amidst the confusion. "Why didn't you tell Jones about this? We could be out of here by now!"

"There's a reason it's forbidden," said Edward, drawing markings along the edges. "And it's not just because it's so powerful. The reason it's still just a theory is…is because no one's ever performed it and survived. If Roberts got his hands on this m-m-matrix, he'd…he'd…he'd p-probably sacrifice hundreds trying to get alchemy into his deck."

I jerked my arm against the chain. "Hold on! Then why are you doing it now?"

Ed threw the stump of chalk to the side and looked up at me where I stood, silvery moonlight bouncing off his paled face like a ghost. "B-Because she's my baby and I love her."

I inhaled sharply. "Ed, wait!"

Ed rested his palms flat on the chalked matrix like I'd seen him act out for Jones a thousand times. "I'll f-figure it out, Win. I always do."

"No," I said. "No, don't!"

The markings on the floor began to glow blue and I felt my knees shake under me. Glowing meant it was being activated. He'd told me this was how it would look!

"Edward, stop!" Anger flared in my face. "This isn't doing anything for her! You're just throwing your life away so you won't have to see her go! This isn't heroic! It's selfish!"

Something black, something like shadowy vines emitted from the matrix amidst the glow.

"I'll come back," said Edward. "Promise!"

"You bastard!"

The shadows overcame him like a cloak. Suddenly, the blue light was gone and my eyes were looking into darkness again. Layla cried weakly in my arms.

"Ed?" I said. I waited. "Edward? Ed, answer me!" My knees buckled. "Come back! Come back! You can't leave me here!"

I shuddered and quaked, falling into breathless tears. How had this happened? Gone from saving Layla to losing both of them? I kissed Layla's hot skin. I was an idiot. Ed had been running out of reasons to live like sand through a colander. Of course he'd throw his life away at the drop of a hat. All he'd needed was that little extra push from me. He'd been born to keep others from dying. That's how he'd always seen himself.

"Ed, you jerk!" I said in the emptiness.

Layla was making less and less noise. My eyes adjusted back to the low light and I could tell she was grimacing, but her movements were nearly too faint to feel. Her grunts indicated she was struggling to breathe. I rested her on my lap and tugged away the folds of the shirt around her. I'd wrapped her lightly, thinner layers than usual to try to help with the fever. Now the direct cold on her bare skin was sending her into violent shivers, but what could I do? Wrapping her up was limiting her ability to breathe and I needed her to keep breathing!

"It's okay, baby," I said. I held her tiny naked body in my arms. My chest shuddered with sobs at the sound of Layla's broken whines. "I…I love you."

This was it. She was going to die. She was the one good thing that had come from this place, and she was going to disappear. Soon, I'd be holding a little body. I'd give it to Jones in the morning to put out with the trash.

This was the first time I'd really told her, wasn't it? I'd never told her I loved her until now. I'd just left it to be implied amidst my complaints and groans about how hard to please she was. Now she'd go just like Ed had, go without ever feeling wanted in this world. I'd gotten so mad at the people in Ed's life who'd brushed him aside like he was nothing but an unwelcomed presence, but I was a walking example of everything they stood for.

"I want another chance," I said. "Can you give me another chance, Layla?" She didn't make a sound. I sniffled. "Layla?"

My heart stopped. She wasn't moving. I turned her in my arms, tried to get a better look at her face. Her flat, unblinking eyes.

"No," I muttered. "No, no, no. No, baby. Look at me. Look at Mommy!" I rubbed her chest, rubbed her back. Tears fell down my face. I screamed. "Layla!"

Startling me into gasps, the center of the floor flashed with blue light, brighter than the first time by double. I cradled Layla's still body, sobbing frantically as Ed's form materialized from shadows. I backed against the wall. The room darkened again before I could get a good look at him. I heard his voice, though. His hoarse, pained voice, gasping on air in short breaths. Bastard!

"You're too late!" I screamed into the darkness. "She's gone!"

"W-Win," Ed said faintly. "Give her…give her to m-me."

"I told you not to go!" I cried. "I told you not to leave me and she's gone!"

His movements were audible, clumsy, like he was part crawling, part dragging himself. His voice groaned in his throat. For a moment, there was a pause. I heard him cough and the splashing sound after made me realize he'd vomited. I trembled, holding Layla tightly. What was he doing? What was going on?

"Win?" he said. The moonlight reflected off him from where he was, just a few feet from me. He'd curled up on his side, squeezing both hands tight around his left thigh. I lost my breath, stomach flipping as my eyes adjusted to the new look of Ed's left leg. He wasn't simply holding his thigh. His leg now ended at his thigh. His hands constricted around the end to slow bleeding. There was blood everywhere! Oh, God. I could smell it. I could hear his gasping, agonized breaths. I got back up on my feet and ran to his side.

"Don't die!" I dropped next to him. "Don't you dare go!"

Ed put his hand up to Layla. "Give her…to…to me."

I shook my head. "She…"

Ed's eyes met mine with a strained urgency. "Before I p-pass out."

I lowered the limp child into his ready hand, crying. "Few minutes after you left…she stopped moving, Ed. She stopped!"

Ed rested Layla's naked body on the stone floor beside him. He didn't seem to be listening to me. He kept his gaze pinned on her. In a motion similar to prayer, Ed clapped his palms together then rested them on our daughter. Blue light glowed from his hands and flashed around her.

"Not dead," said Edward. "Needs…heartbeat…is all."

For a moment, all I saw was color coming back to Layla's skin. Her face contorted into her usual grimace. She took a sudden deep breath and screamed. Ed let his hands flop away from her and the blue light vanished.

"She…b-be okay," said Ed.

My breath caught, eyes widening to the point of strain. "She's…?"

I grabbed Layla up from the floor and felt her strong movements, her deep breaths, and her loud cries. I kissed her face. I kissed the other side of it. I kissed her hand and her foot. I cradled her and cried, head spinning. I felt Ed's hand on my knee.

"Win?" he said.

I felt a little jarred by his voice. I put my hand over his. "I…" The blood in the air hit me in a wave. My stomach churned and the dizziness worsened. "I'm going to faint."

"No," he said. "Have to keep m-me alive until…until Jones comes. B-bleeding…" Ed's hand tightened on my knee. "Don't w-want to die, Win."

"You don't?"

"I don't."

My head started feeling heavy, but I forced my eyes to stay open as wide as I could get them. I rested Layla in my lap and set to work on Ed with shaking hands. I tried turning my brain off, tried keeping it on. My determination didn't get me far, though. I managed to tend to Ed's leg, mostly by touch. Tightened his belt around it to cut off the bleeding, at least. He groaned at first then went very quiet. In spite of my efforts, I did fade. Right there next to him with Layla screaming in my lap. And as I faded, I wasn't even lucid enough to realize it was that big of a deal.

* * *

**Um, I wanted to say something like, 'Happy World Breastfeeding Week!' since it ended yesterday, but just no.**


	6. A Second Chance

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys. This chapter's freaking long, though. That should make up for some of it. Thanks for the continued support :)**

* * *

Chapter 6: A Second Chance

"Hoy!" Jones shouted in my face. "What happened down here? Answer me!"

I blinked. Daylight stung my eyes. Jones was shaking me by my arms. I heard Layla crying, but I didn't feel her weight on my lap.

"My baby," I said. My words were slurred with lasting drowsiness. "Where's my daughter?"

"Never mind the kid!" said Jones. "Where's Elric's leg? Who did this? How'd they get past the guards? Damn it! Twit nearly let himself bleed out! Then what would we have?"

The way he was shaking me.

Made my stomach turn.

Through cracked eyelids, I caught sight of what was left of the prison floor. Once smooth stone, it lay in a waste of jagged pieces. Had the transmutation done that, or had Edward done it to hide the transmutation?

Chills ran over me and I realized I was sweating. Oh, God. I was going to vomit.

Jones let me drop. I heard his boots thud. His voice rose over others. "Radio Roberts! We need the whole place on lockdown. Someone get a doctor down here! The project's been compromised!"

I rolled onto my side. Stomach acid heaved up my throat, splashed from my mouth, and pooled under my clammy face against the stone. My head pounded, too hot against the cool floor. I closed my eyes from the blaring light. Things were so foggy that I might've just fallen asleep. But then I heard heavy boots stepping across the floor right in front of me and my hand latched onto its leathery ankle without really thinking about it.

The boot stopped in its tracks. I heard a voice I didn't know as well as Jones's. One of his monsters. The tone was harsh. "What do you want?"

"My baby," I said. "She'll die if I don't feed her. I need…where is she?"

The monster stepped out of my grip, saying, "Check the floor. Stupid slut."

Moments later, I felt a pair of calloused hands turning me over and cradling my arms for me. Suddenly Layla was there, her tiny naked body shivering against me, squirming and shrieking. My eyes peeled open in time to see Jones standing back up from us and walking to where Edward lay in a bloody mess on the floor. I tucked my baby under a flap of my leather coat and battled with the thought of nursing in front of monsters without Edward to protect me from the worst.

"We'll have the girl tested as well," Jones muttered to others grouped around Ed. "She's acting drugged. No way to be sure."

"How'd someone get in?" said a monster. "We had guards posted all night!"

"Guards were in on it," said another monster.

"Quit speculating!" said Jones. "Do your job. This is no time to play gossip."

"How'd anyone know?" said a monster. "That's what I'm wondering. I mean, how would they know to take a limb? We've kept the details of this project hush-hush."

"Which means," said the speculating monster, "it must've been one of us."

"Shut it!" said Jones. "The last thing you boys need is rumors for Roberts to look into."

Jones was…looking out for them.

Half-conscious, I propped myself up enough to get into a relatively discreet nursing position, opened my clothes, and pushed Layla to my breast under the cover of my borrowed fur-lined coat. She latched instantly, no fuss over her usual aversion to nursing covered. Just hunger so desperate I cringed. She was actually hungry! It had worked. Whatever Ed had done, Layla wasn't sick anymore. Just making up for dehydration.

"Hoy!" Jones snapped. "Quit gawking! She ain't your business. You have time to stare then you have time to work. Go radio Roberts again!" Then Jones's voice changed and he was close to me. "Hey, you awake?"

"Mm," I grunted.

"Don't worry about them," said Jones quietly. "They won't touch you with me around. You just look after the kid."

"Ed…" I muttered. "Where's Ed?"

"He'll pull through," Jones said. "Stay awake, now. Tell me. Did you see who got in here last night? You see what they looked like, which way they got in?"

"I…floor…broken…"

"How'd it get that way?" said Jones. "Who did it? They trying to tunnel out?"

"Jones!" Robert's voice resonated over the room. "Distracted, are we?"

I watched Jones's blurry form stand tall. "She might've seen who came in."

"Then quit wasting time asking her nicely!"

For a moment, my head throbbed and I saw black. Then my vision returned long enough for me to see Roberts's fierce scowl in my face. His hot hand tightened on my neck in a choke.

"Where are they?" he yelled. "Where'd the bastards go? That leg was already called for! I need it back!"

He must've tightened his grip more than he should have, because things went black again. My head rocked back and Layla's voice shrieked as my arms went limp under her and she fell to rest on my lap. The last thing I heard as Roberts's yelling slurred with Layla's crying and every other noise was a voice somewhere a ways saying, "He's coming to!" And then Edward groaned.

…

"Well, well," Daddy said with a bright smile, blue eyes twinkling down at me. He ticked a mark above my head, right onto the kitchen wall. "Looks like someone's been doing a little growing this month. Careful, Sara. Pretty soon, our little lady's going to be as tall as her mother."

Daddy looked over his shoulder to my mommy. She folded her hands in front of her apron, her creamy skin glowing in the daylight shining through the tall windows. I bounced on my feet excitedly as she came to stand in front of me with Daddy and they looked at the height-mark together.

"My, you're right, dear," Mommy said. "Winry, you're almost four feet tall!"

Granny came into the room, her three-legged doggy hobbling in after her. "Careful, you two. Don't get too excited. She might just leave us behind if you let her grow up too quickly."

…

My eyes opened.

A cool draft chilled my skin. My clothes clung stiffly to my body from long-dried sweat. The dungeon was bright with afternoon light that didn't hurt my eyes nearly as badly as it had when I'd closed them. Layla was resting on my lap like a baby in a cradle and her cries seemed more peaceful than usual somehow. Ed's arm was cozily warm around me. I looked up and met his eyes. He looked back down at me and smiled. He was extremely pale and he was shivering slightly, but he looked content.

"Hey, W-Win," he said. His gaze lifted and glanced briefly to door. "Have a guest."

I looked up at the top of the steps. My heart skipped. A monster, one I wasn't sure I recognized, was sitting with a large gun on his lap and his back leaning against the metal door. His eyes watched us with an expression like stone, flat and apathetic in a way that made me feel colder.

"Just a…just a guard," said Edward. "Sometimes there are m-more. Sometimes just outside. Just keeping track. Making sure no one else gets in and steals their…steals their goods."

My eyes darted to Ed's legs. Ed's _leg_. I'd known what I'd see, but I still shuddered at the sight. It was…really gone. Trouser-leg cut at mid-thigh with a tightly bandaged stump peeking through the blue frayed cloth. It hadn't been a dream. That taboo had taken his left leg!

And it had almost taken him with it.

I grabbed Ed's hand tightly in mine. My other hand cupped over Layla's smooth little head. I sniffled. There was some new darkness aching in me, the lingering memory of losing them. It pulled the breath from my lungs.

"It's okay," Edward said. "You've b-b-been out…few days. I'm f-feeling…feeling good now. So's she. Nothing to w-worry."

Ed's speech was very choppy. I had a feeling having a guard inside with us made him nervous. Ed tended to trip over his tongue under pressure.

"Few days?" I said.

"Um," he said. "Yeah. F-Four, actually. You w-were," I watched his eyes dart to the guard in a silent signal to me, "drugged. B-B-By the thief that took m-my leg that night."

No. I'd had a double bout of that flu he and Layla had each gone through before me. I'd felt it at the time and I felt the dried sweat of a broken fever now.

"Who took care of Layla?" I said. My cheeks warmed slightly as Ed met my eyes and I watched him infer the hidden meaning in my words.

"I did," he said.

I closed my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. I squeezed my fingers around his hand. As little dignity or privacy this had place allowed, I still couldn't feel desensitized to the idea of Jones or some other uncharacteristically sympathetic monster aiding Layla in nursing from her unconscious mother. Ed? Ed had helped me with so much worse. The fact that he'd been taking care of her right after an amputation did frighten me for his sake. She was high maintenance.

Ed jumped in his skin against me and it took me a moment to realize the guard had stood and was coming down the steps. My hand tightened around Ed's, silent reassurance. Ed gave me a thin smile as the guard went to a corner that wasn't the designated corner, zipped down his trousers, and relieved himself right onto the stone floor. I couldn't help but frown. We had rules about keeping things clean down here. Rules! The guard zipped up and went back to his post with a lazy yawn. After a moment, he lifted his wrist and checked what I guessed was his watch. After that, he swung the gun over his shoulder and opened the metal door, saying nothing as he left us and closed the door behind him. Ed sighed.

"You'd think," he said, "they'd have the decency to hold it…hold it two minutes. Until shift's done."

I pulled Layla into one arm. My other arm had plans of its own. I released Ed's hand and jerked from his arms, shifting around to face him on my knees before grabbing the collar of his blue uniform and yanking him forward from the wall. Hot tears burned my eyes, my ever-present overflow of emotion that I couldn't seem to get control over. I ground my teeth to keep from sobbing this time. For once, could I just speak without getting interrupted by tears?

Ed's wide eyes locked with mine, his breaths quick and sharp. "W-Win?"

"You bastard!" My hand clenched his collar so hard my fingers hurt. "I told you not to go!"

"I…" He rested his hand over mine, an action meant to calm. "I had to save her."

"Liar!" I said. "You had to go down swinging! You coming out alive was a miracle and you know it! You left me alone!"

"I tried the only thing I had left!" he said. "You w-would've done the same!"

A shiver ran through me and I dropped his collar from a trembling hand. Ed winced as his back hit the wall. He was so pale. I sniffled, cradling Layla close. Ed looked up at me, eyes filling with remorse.

"Win, I'm sorry—"

With the strength I had, I smacked him. An immediate rosy mark colored his colorless cheek. Ed blinked. I crawled back to him and crumpled in his arms, the sobs taking over.

"I don't want to be alone," I cried. "I don't want to be alone!"

I felt him wrap his arms around me. "I'm sorry. But…but it's over now." He placed a gentle hand over Layla where I held her against my shoulder. "It's over, Win. W-We're safe."

"She was dead!"

"No, her heart stopped for a little…f-for a little while. She just needed a little help. She's okay now."

"You were bleeding!"

"B-But you helped me and I'm fine."

"Don't want to be alone!" I clawed my hair. "I can't!"

Don't want to be alone. Those words had taken on a whole new meaning in the past months and I was sure Ed knew that. Alone meant danger. Alone meant exposed. Alone meant ambushed and assaulted and left with the consequences. It meant being afraid of the dark for the first time since you were a small child. Alone was rough hands pawing my clothes from my body, sliding down me, pulling me open to rip me apart. Voices I recognized. Voices I didn't. Days marked into a wall, a good quarter of them written in blood. Only one person kept hope enough to keep up with the passing of time and every moment of every day I knew he'd go without saying goodbye. He'd leave and I'd be alone! I'd be alone in that bright kitchen, surrounded by fresh air and smiling voices that used to call me their little girl. I'd be more alone in the light than I was here in the dark. I'd never stop being cold. I'd never stop being exposed. Vulnerable. Ambushed. Assaulted. Pulled open. Ripped apart. Empty black, wet between my legs as the smell of my own blood thickens the air and all I can do is scream as all my decisions continue to be made for me.

I clawed my face.

They'll do it again! I've seen how they look at me when Jones isn't keeping them in check. They'll invade me all over again and I'll have another, but this time it won't be Ed's. A monster's going to put it in me this time and Ed won't be holding my hand when it's ready to force its way out. Just black and cold and stone and blood and pain and…

"Win, stop." Edward hugged onto me and rubbed my back. "Don't go there. Don't…don't go to those p-places. I know what you're doing. Just stop."

I clutched onto his coat. "You left me, Ed!"

"I'm not going to do it again." He rubbed between my shoulders. "I…" His voice lowered to a whisper. "I doubt I can explain it all b-b-before the next guard comes, but…I think w-we have a way out of…out of here. And w-we'll do it together this time."

…

Ed had his alchemy back.

I couldn't pretend that I understood a hundred percent of what he explained to me. The long and short of it was, he shouldn't have lived through the transmutation. The reason he had? Roy Mustang's doing, surprisingly enough. Ed recounted to me that what he'd experienced performing the taboo had been eerily similar to the white flash that had come over him when his alchemy had been taken months before. This time, Edward remembered what happened after the white flash.

He compared it to going through a vast white void, pulled along by some invisible force at a speed that made his head spin and his eyes sting. He said there was no way to put into words what the void did to him as he went passed through.

"The b-best way I can describe it," he'd said in a whisper while there were no guards inside, "is that I was…I was doing everything at once."

He'd seen every moment. Felt every fear, every happiness and comfort. Gone through every pain. Been burned and frozen at the same time. Breathed and drowned. Blaring and silent. Every secret the world had to offer had been told and his mind was too small for it.

"I need to grow some humility over m-my brain," Ed had said with a smile. "Not really that b-big at all."

In the midst of all that, when he'd had that wealth of knowledge at his wandering mind's disposal, some things had become very clear to him. He said it was like all the sudden he just knew he'd been there before, that the only reason this information wasn't presently overloading and killing him was because Mustang had used a forbidden alchemy to deplete Ed months beforehand. Ed had enough empty space not to be killed instantly by the information filling it and his previous experience and understanding with alchemy helped him know what to do next.

When he came to the end of the void, a voice in his head told him he wasn't getting out without giving something up. He'd woken moments later and known by the pain in his thigh that his leg had been taken. A portion of him that he wasn't getting back.

This was the part where got Ed angry. Furiously angry. He told me that if the only thing that the taboo he'd committed was child's play, that is was nothing more than taking back what had been his to begin with, reforming a dirty transmutation from months before. And it had cost him his leg. Whatever forbidden alchemy Mustang had used to leach Ed's alchemy his first time through the void had to have been what Ed called 'pricey.'

I'd heard Ed talk about Philosopher's Stones before. They'd been a focus of his time in the military. They were alchemic enhancers made using human lives as a main ingredient; consequently, manufactured and dealt illegally by organizations like the one we were presently captives under. When Ed wasn't fighting wars, he was on missions searching out Philosopher's Stones and confiscating them to be disposed of by the Amestrian military. And, apparently, one of these stones had been used as payment to take his alchemy away. What got Ed so angry about it, though, was beyond the fact that Mustang had used human souls to do the job. It was that all those years Mustang had been assigning Ed to confiscate Stones, Mustang hadn't been destroying them like he'd said.

"I'm b-beginning to wonder," Ed had muttered, "who the real bad guys are, Win."

Ed's taboo had been rough enough to break the stone floor up upon his return. Apparently people just weren't supposed to return. The floor breaking had been relatively unexpected, but welcomed. The circle Ed had draw was destroyed with the floor and, when Jones and his monsters got in the next morning, all they saw was their valued material missing one of his four even more valuable limbs. They saw a tampered cell. They saw a hostage acting drugged. And they assumed, of course, that someone among them had gotten loose-lipped and an unknown thief had found a way in at night and stolen Ed's leg. Roberts was hardly happy as that specific leg had already been promised to an illegal alchemic dealer somewhere or another. Security tripled to make sure no more of Ed disappeared. A designated medic came in once a day to check on Ed's vitals to make sure he didn't expire before his arms and remaining leg were ready to be harvested. Ed let them think what they wanted. As they scrambled to find a way to activate Ed's alchemy before word spread too far that they were in procession of an alchemist to begin with, Ed went through the motions. He'd activate his alchemy when he was good and ready.

…

"Hey, eyes up!" Ed snapped at the guards currently gawking from the stoop.

I tried not to laugh as the two broad-shouldered thugs whipped their gazes off my exposed boobs and pinned their eyes to the wall. They had no real reason to do as Edward said. Jones wasn't around to back him up. The two could come down and beat Ed to a pulp for talking to them like that. But Ed's stern glare, the commanding quality in his deep voice, was enough to get them to look away, if only for a moment.

I rubbed Layla's back as she nursed. Finally, some peace. "She'll be a couple months old tomorrow."

Ed smiled and played with her foot. "Imagine that."

We were sitting side by side on top of Jones's leather coat like it was a picnic blanket. With the past weeks had come a warm front, spring finally showing itself after months of cold. I was comfortable in my blouse and shorts. Ed and I no longer huddled together for warmth. Personal space was actually an option! I could tell Ed liked that.

"She's going to b-be a looker," Ed said.

"Yeah," I said with a light nod. "We made one pretty baby."

Ed's face pinked. He looked down and started self-consciously massaging the side of his stump. "Um, yeah. Guess w-we did."

"Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. He met my eyes. "Something I w-wanted to ask."

"Oh?" I said. "What is it?"

He got a little redder. "I just…w-was wondering if…" He closed his eyes and let out a breath. "Was wondering what school was like. F-For you."

I blinked. "School?"

"High school," he said. "I…never did that. You had friends?"

"Uh, yeah. I had friends."

He nodded. "F-Friends your age?"

"Most of them," I said. What was he talking about? I'd told him about my friends before. "Some were in the grade below or above, remember? I knew people from clubs."

"Clubs?" he said. "You never told me…told me about clubs."

I chuckled. "Maybe because they're boring." Layla unlatched and I handed her over to Daddy to be burped so I could button up my shirt. "Hate to break it to you, Ed, but my life hasn't exactly been an exciting one. Until a little less than a year ago, that is."

Ed patted Layla's back as she buried her face in his shoulder and fussed. He shot me a glance. "I don't care about exciting. Excitement sucks. I w-was asking about you."

I raised my eyebrows. That could've sounded insulting from anyone but Edward. I sighed. "Okay, then. I was vice-president of the sewing club. There. I said it. I needed some extra curricular points on my transcript and being vice-president of just about anything sounds pretty legit, so I went for sewing club. Mostly because it was easy and no one else was going for the position."

"Sewing?" said Edward, disturbingly unfazed. "That's impressive. F-Finding it easy."

"Um…" Was he serious? Sewing club was impressive to him? I shrugged. "I grew up doing girly stuff like that with Granny. Wasn't hard to slip back into it."

"My mother," said Ed. "She…she w-was good at sewing. She made all our clothes. Even…Even Dad liked the stuff she made him. She could make anything."

I felt myself smile. "I'm not sure I'm _that_ impressive."

Ed smiled. "Still. I don't think it's as silly as you're making it out to…out to be."

"Maybe not," I said. "But my reasons for doing it were silly. We were a joke. As soon as our advisor left the room, we'd drop our projects and just goof off together. Senior year, we'd gotten such a bad reputation that some of my guy friends joined just to hang out." I laughed. "They told the advisor they wanted to learn the secrets to patch up soccer jerseys."

Ed surprised me and laughed himself. "That's not silly. That's awesome. You got p-points just for having fun with your friends? That's not boring."

"It is compared to _your_ stories."

Ed shook his head. "You're just saying that b-because my stories aren't what you're used to."

Layla burped up milk onto Ed's shoulder, as expected. He handed her over and cleaned himself off with his sleeve. I lifted Layla close to my face and kissed her soft cheek.

"Oh, look at my sweet baby," I said. "You done? Or do you need a little more? You hungry, baby? Aw, I think we're still hungry."

I started undoing my shirt again.

"Need m-me to take her?" Ed said.

"No thanks. I can do it one-handed." I'd had a lot of practice.

As Layla nursed, I saw Ed staring down the guards who'd apparently started looking again. I laughed to myself, patting Layla. All poor Ed had to do was glare and those men would shy. Part of me wondered what he would've been like at my remote little high school.

Part of me wondered that pretty often.

"So," said Edward. "Did you…?" His eyes were down. "You said there w-were boys?"

I blinked. "Um, yes."

Ed nodded. "Nice guys?"

"Pretty nice, yeah." I smiled, remembering. "Country boys tend to be nicer. It's that gentleman complex. Even the jerks are nicer than most city guys."

"Oh," said Edward. "That's…" he grinned to himself, "p-probably where Al gets it, then."

"No," I said with a laugh. "The way you talk about Al, I doubt any of _my_ country boys could compare. He's a breed of his own."

"Did you date any of them?" Edward asked.

I blinked. This was new. Ed and I had spent nearly a year getting to know each other, but he'd always seemed to make a point to avoid the 'boyfriend' question. Actually, now that I thought about it, this was the first time he'd taken an interest in my boring school life. Under the premise 'I didn't get to do that'?

Ed looked away, his face flushing. "Sorry. Just…just w-wondering."

"Oh. Um, no," I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. No, I didn't date any of them. I had better things to do. I had my heart set on getting into a good school and having a flashy career in the big cities and _not_ getting married and becoming a housewife before I turned twenty."

Ed looked at me with suddenly wide eyes. He opened his mouth, finding words, and I realized with a sharp pang that he was about to apologize for ruining my life.

"But then I met you," I said. "And my perspective's changed a lot since then. See, I thought having a family would be boring. But it's not." I stroked Layla's head and sighed. "I thought _I_ was boring."

"There's no such thing as a boring person," Ed said simply. A smile touched his voice. "And if there was, it w-wouldn't be you."

For some reason, that made me sniffle.

Ed paused. "Win?"

"Really?" I said. "You think that? Because, it's easy to say you're nothing special when you've had a boring life, but a lot's happened and I still…I feel like…" I sniffled. "Like I'm nothing." Like you'd have no reason to stay if you didn't think this was your fault.

The word _nothing_ was as accurately as I could put it, but it didn't begin to cover what I'd lost in this place.

"When you're little," I said, "you grow up hearing your parents and your teachers telling you you're special. You're talented and can do anything you set your mind to. It's bullshit. It's all a load of shit! No person's any better than the other. Even the monsters are people same as anyone else. But from day one we say to our kids, 'Wow, and here I didn't learn to multiply until I was eight! Your finger-painting must've been the best in the class! You're the prettiest girl in town. Don't worry about college. I'll bet you're smarter than most of the professors, let alone the other applicants. They'd be crazy not to accept you.' Adults act like they're paying compliments and building your self confidence, but all they're doing is teaching you to think you're only as good as how much better you are than everyone else! The moment that gets stripped away, what do you have left? It's bullshit, Edward! I don't even know who I am anymore. I used to think I was Little Miss 'She's got a bright future ahead of her.' Now I'm Little Miss 'Teen Mom'? That can't be right!"

"Our life stories don't m-make us who we are," said Ed.

"So what does?" I cried.

No matter how often, no matter how many times I cried in front of him, Ed never seemed to see tears without something in his gaze becoming heavy. He put his hand on my shoulder. His gaze drifted to the wall. After a moment, he took away his hand and folded his arms. A light smile touched his lips.

"You know," he said, "I swore I'd never tell you this, but…but the f-first few weeks after I met you, I tried not to like you." His lip curled with a smirk like he amused himself. "I m-mean, I wasn't trying to hate you. I just didn't want to like you."

I sniffled. "What?"

He looked at me, still smiling. "Didn't w-work, though."

The way he was smiling. It hurt. Because that didn't answer my question at all. It was bullshit! He was trying to tell me I _was_ special. I _was_ something different. I could see it coming. 'I like you. You are special. You are different. You're my _best friend_. That makes you special.' So, what the hell am I worth if I'm not Edward Elric's best friend, then? What about me is there that doesn't depend on someone else thinking well of me? Because, when we break out of here together, the way I am now is going to disappoint a lot of people!

I felt the tears spill over my cheeks. I looked away. "And it would've been the same with any other girl, Ed."

Silence.

I looked up. Ed was staring at me, barely breathing. The look on his face was so full of hurt that I found myself holding my breath too. For a while, neither of us spoke. Then Ed shook his head and looked away again.

"I w-was…" he began, "kind of…kind of leading up to admitting I'm glad it w-was you."

I swallowed hard.

"Not b-because…" he took a breath. "Not because you're better than anyone else w-would've been. Not because…because someone else m-might've been worse. I just…like you because you're you, okay? Is there something wrong w-with that?"

I sniffled. I felt my mouth trembling. I couldn't answer. Not without sounding like a wreck. So I just shook my head and said, "Mm-mm."

"Being someone w-worthwhile," he said, "is a stupid goal. Take it f-from someone who knows. F-Freed a hundred captives. Saved a thousand lives. Come home…never stop feeling like…feeling like Mom's unwanted pregnancy. Never stop feeling like I ruined her life. Ruined Al's life. Even…" he smiled bitterly. "Even ruined m-my dad's life. How it feels. I'm a decorated State Alchemist. Done…done a lot of good out there. But I never stopped f-feeling like nothing. You can't earn your w-way out of that feeling."

I was going to say something. Then Layla unlatched. Her fussing broke our flow. Ed extended an arm for me to pass her over. I gave her to him in silence, just sniffling like an idiot. He took her a burped her while I buttoned my shirt. I tried to get ahold of myself.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Don't…don't apologize. You didn't do anything."

I nodded, not really agreeing. I rubbed my eye and sniffed, recovering what little composure I could. "Ed, there's something I want to ask you."

He looked at me. "Oh?"

I nodded. I swallowed. "If you could take back what happened," I said softly. "If you could make it so we never met, would you do it?"

Ed's eyes widened like I'd hit him with an arrow. His hand paused at patting Layla's back. He opened his mouth, jaw flexing as he fought for words. Finally, he said, "I can't answer."

"You," I said, "can't?"

He shook his head. "Too complicated."

Well, I had to give him that. Since meeting each other, we'd created a new life. Wishing the past year away would do more than erase events and bonds. It would erase Layla. In that case, he probably should've said he wouldn't wish it away. Then again, maybe Edward was waiting to see how all this turned out before he decided whether Layla was better off dead or not.

"Sorry," he said. "Guess that w-wasn't what you were expecting."

I leaned my ear on his shoulder opposite Layla, watched her falling asleep. A smile touched my face. I patted her cute little butt all wrapped up in the dirty old shirt. I could feel Ed's eyes on me and I wondered what expression he was wearing this time.

"No, Ed." I folded my hands in my lap. "It's fine. I…I don't think I'd go back on what happened."

Ed's posture tightened. "Seriously?"

The tone of his voice. He sounded so stunned, like the only reason he wasn't sounding more stunned was the lingering skepticism. It was enough to make me laugh.

"Seriously," I said. "I mean, it's taken me a while to get to that point."

"Understandable."

"But I..." I glanced up and he was staring at me with confusion that was almost comical. I laughed. "Screw med school and big cities. I'm going to be one of the world's first female automail mechanics! Horrors aside, I'm coming out of this with an adorable daughter and a friend I never would've had otherwise. What's more, I'm glad I don't base who I am on my successes anymore. It's like you said. That was stupid to begin with."

"Yeah, but," he blinked, "you just said…"

"I was wondering what _you_ thought." I hugged my knees. "To…to be honest, I never know what you're thinking." Not that I didn't take my guesses.

Ed was quiet for a while. Then he put his hand on my head and ruffled my matted hair. "I'm thinking…you've got to b-be one of the most touchy-feely people I've m-met since Rose Thomas." He rolled his eyes. "Of course, m-most people I been around these past…past years w-were either military or enemies. Not exactly…not exactly huggers."

Ed and I both jumped at the sound of the guards whispering.

"Good God. Are you weeping?" said one.

"There's dust," said the other with a choked voice.

"You bloody romantic. You're actually crying!"

"It's touching, okay?" He sniffled. "Can't help it."

"Roberts would shoot your face."

"He'd shoot yours too if he heard how you talk about the baby. 'Oh, the poor little dear. Must be so cold down there with only a dirty shirt to keep her warm. Let's give them a blanket, shall we?'"

"Shut up! You have any idea how loud you're being?"

I looked up at Ed. He had his eyes directed loosely at the wall ahead, his lips pursed in a smile like he was fighting laughter. I remembered our first weeks down here, how he'd admitted he didn't really laugh that much.

"Ed?" I said.

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Who's Rose?"

He blinked. "Rose? Thought I'd mentioned her b-before. You remember the…that ugly skirmish in the east a few years ago? Rose w-was part of the relief effort in…in Liore." Ed frowned. "After my unit came through and…and sent her city into chaos in the name of w-weeding out Philosopher's Stones."

That's right. And they'd found what they were looking for.

"Didn't the volunteers on that relief team clash with you a little?" I said. Actually, Edward had recounted his time with them as nothing short of miserable.

Ed laughed. "They drove m-me nuts. That whole time…just…just one complaint after another. 'Why didn't your m-military come sooner? Our corrupt…corrupt priest tricked us into doing stupid stuff!' 'Why did your m-m-military interfere? W-We were perfectly content b-being tricked while it lasted.' Dear God. You can only call yourself a victim so m-many times before you're doing it to yourself. And, damn, Rose w-was the worst."

"Was she, now?" I giggled. "Tell me about her."

"Mm." Ed looked put off as he recalled. "I was…I was fifteen at the time, you know? I was," his frown deepened, "not as…w-well, I didn't look as credible as the average soldier."

He meant he'd been short. The effects of his time living on next to nothing before he joined the service had left his growth stunted until he was sixteen, apparently. The shame hadn't worn off.

"Rose w-was only a couple years older than me," Ed continued. "But I looked like a kid compared to her, so…so that's how I got treated. I'd tell her how to…how to handle the budget. Why rationing ahead of time w-was important. W-Why concrete would work better than gravel. W-Why keeping the drinking water clean was more important than…than using it to wash dishes." Ed shook his head. "But it w-was always the same response f-from her. I was just a kid. The m-military obviously wasn't taking this seriously. The fact that I w-was ordering her around was insulting. Blah, blah. Woe is me." He gave me a look. "P-Pretty much Rose in a nutshell."

"Sounds like a pain," I said. "I'm a little scared that you compared the two of us."

Ed blinked. "Oh, that? I just m-meant she was a hugger. Something you two have in…in common." He chuckled. "Of course, Rose kept her distance when it came to…to me."

I felt my face grow warm. "Oh, right."

Ed looked at the ceiling. "I won't say she…she didn't have reason to complain. F-From what I heard, Rose hadn't had it easy. But sometimes you just have to stand on your own, you…you know? I m-mean, if you got legs, use them. Don't blame your circumstances f-for your resolve not to move forward. It's up to you."

"You would know," I said.

Ed smiled cheekily. "She didn't react v-very well when I told her as much."

"You told her to quit complaining?" I was a little surprised. Edward had described himself as a pretty quiet guy in the military. Took orders and got them over with. Too preoccupied or apathetic to talk back with anything he deemed trivial. Stuck to the mission and got back to Central to see Al before going off to the next.

"She had it coming," Edward said. "She…she spent two w-weeks complaining about me, then it was time f-for me to get back to Central and she got upset b-because apparently the relief effort wouldn't go as smoothly w-without me. She asked m-me what she was supposed to do, so I told her."

"You told her to quit complaining and move forward on her own?"

"Pretty much."

I laughed. "What did she say?"

"She p-pointed a gun at me and told me to get out of her town."

"Wait, seriously?"

Ed shrugged a shoulder. "Not like I w-wasn't doing that already."

"But," I raised a brow, "pointing guns at State Alchemists? I always figured that was something people could go to prison for."

"Yeah, well," Ed sighed, "Rose didn't take m-me that seriously. I w-wasn't taking her seriously either, so she got off easy."

"You are hilarious."

"What? Why?"

"You're just," I snorted, "kind of sassy, Ed."

He wrinkled his brow. "Sassy?"

I laughed. The way he said it made it so much better. "I mean you've got some attitude under all that selflessness and stoicism."

"Huh." He smiled a little and shook his head. "F-First time I've heard that one. Sassy?"

"Almost as good as 'soldier missions'?"

Ed bit his lip, quaking with chuckles. "Damn it," he said. "Don't m-make me laugh too hard, Win. I'll w-wake Layla up."

"Sorry," I giggled. Did he honestly still find that stupid 'soldier missions' joke that funny?

He leaned his head back and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Um, Win?"

"Yeah?"

"For w-what it's worth," he said, "you would've m-made a really great doctor."

For a moment, I didn't know what to say. I leaned back on the wall. Lightly, I rested my hand over Layla's sleeping body. I smiled to myself.

"Thanks, Ed."

…

Ed had been doing this thing lately where, just after bolting up from sleep, he'd sit upright and reach past the end of his stump to feel around for the rest of his leg. I'd asked him what on earth he'd been dreaming about that would lead him to do that every time he woke up. He'd said it had nothing to do with his dreams. He said there was a point just after waking up where it would feel like his leg was still there and, in his drowsiness, he'd feel some kind of compulsion to check.

"Wouldn't it be weird," I'd said, "if one day you checked and it was there?"

Ed had smiled and said, "Then I'd b-be checking on Layla."

Because giving up his leg had saved her life. We agreed we'd never tell her that part of her story either.

…

Certain things began to worry me as time went on. No, not worry. Worry sounded like such a helpless and whiny thing these days. It was…healthy concern. Concern about the fact that, over the past weeks, the number of monsters I recognized in the dungeon thinned and new faces became a constant occurrence. Jones's warning about Roberts weeding out suspects after Ed's mysterious leg-napping rang in my thoughts as Jones's original group began to be replaced by a new one, man by man. That concerned me.

Ed's continuous silent nightmares and stuttered speech that worsened anytime he got nervous concerned me. The increased choppiness of his sentences in result of the stressful in-cell guard details concerned me. Ed's continuous silence through the pain from being a recent amputee concerned me. Ed's constant mentions of eventual escape anytime we were alone together concerned me. The fact that he'd talked about it but never explained his plans in detail concerned me. The fact that he'd had his alchemy back for weeks and still hadn't used it to get us and our little baby out while we could concerned me.

The fact that Layla was over three months old and was yet to smile for us even once concerned me. The fact that she was sickly and dirty and couldn't eat without spitting up and never even once acted comfortable just made me want to cry. Layla worried me.

…

While we were alone, I asked Ed what he planned to do when we got out. He grinned and said, "F-Find my brother, of course." I'd expected him to return the question, but he didn't. He didn't elaborate his own response either. He left it at finding his brother. And, for a reason I couldn't quite place, something bordering an irrational fear of rejection, I avoided asking him the obvious questions. How the hell are we going to pick up the pieces once we're free of this place? How close are you going to stay to help me do it?

…

Jones dropped a fresh stack of documents to be 'destroyed' beside Ed. I smiled to myself, giving Layla's head a kiss. How many mothers could brag to diapering their children in criminals' paperwork?

"She looks like she's growing up nicely," said Jones, nodding at Layla. "A little small, but she's lively. I'll give her that."

"That's one way of putting it," I grumbled.

Jones smiled then looked at Ed with a bit of melancholy. "Just so you're aware, mate, Roberts ain't going to wait much longer for results. This whole business with you losing your leg under our noses shook things up. Rumors got around. Folks who invested are asking for the goods now. Alchemy _before_ surgery may not be an issue after all. We've got buyers willing to pay full price for your limbs as are. Suppose they figure they'll activate them on their own. Not sure I understand it."

"That's b-because it's bull crap," Ed said with a chuckle. "None of this w-was ever going to work. B-But you've known that from the…from the beginning."

Jones looked around warily, checking to make sure no one had heard. He spoke in a serious whisper. "That ain't something to be broadcasting, little man."

No kidding. With Roberts seeming to teeter on paranoia these days, the less suspicions built, the better. But Ed just smiled.

"W-Was wondering," said Edward, "if you realized yet. That…that Roberts doesn't p-plan on keeping m-m-me alive anymore."

My heart pounded at the words.

Jones tensed and said, "You never know."

"W-When," said Edward, "are you going to…to amputate?"

"Roberts decides."

Ed nodded. "And Win? W-What about her and Layla?"

Jones looked away. "Roberts decides."

Ed nodded. "Thanks f-for trying, Jones."

Jones shoved his hands in his pockets. Kind of reminiscent of pouting. "Nothing's final, you understand? Never know what the new day's going to bring. Hold faith 'til you drop dead."

He walked away from us and I got chills watching him go.

The metal door clunked behind him and his monsters. Ed and I were alone. I turned to Ed, holding Layla close, ready to tell him what I'd been thinking for a while. Ready to tell him we needed to get out while we were ahead of the game. Ed looked back at me with a devilishly excited grin. In his hand was a stack of the encrypted papers Jones had brought in for Layla.

"Check it out, Win!" Ed said in a whisper. "Either Jones is…is an idiot or he's really getting into that good-cop role!"

I glanced at the coded gibberish covering the pages. "Huh?"

"Right here!" Ed said, pointing to the typed print and running his finger down the lines. "Jones w-wasn't kidding when he said rumors spread. Says here that…" Ed smiled, "b-blue uniform spotted but…" Ed smiled bigger, "was Amestrian soldier," Ed was practically panting with excitement. "Soldier spotted b-but got away, Win! Amestrian scout f-found this place! And they'll come back with…w-with reinforcements and they'll f-f-find us too!"

My heart leapt. I got up on my knees and got closer to speak as quietly as I could. "When? When will they get here, Ed?"

"Soon," said Edward. "This," he held up the papers, "this is a copy f-from just a few hours ago. Response w-will be fast. Military w-won't want to w-w-wait around for these guys to evacuate."

"So," I said with a glance to the mid-morning light coming through the window, "tomorrow?"

"Tonight," said Edward. "Sooner, if they got a State Alchemist anywhere nearby to respond f-first."

I kept Layla in a more protective hold. My heart sank. "Ed…these guys in this place…they're pros. They'll know they don't have time to spare."

Ed nodded, frighteningly calm.

"What Jones said about," I took one of Ed's hands and held fast, "amputating without getting your alchemy back first; he meant today, didn't he?"

I caught a hint of a frown crossing Ed's face. He nodded.

I swallowed. "Soon?"

Ed nodded. "P-Probably coming back for me any…any m-minute."

I fought the tightness in my lungs, the urge to pant and gasp from panic. I closed my eyes. I tightened my grip on Ed's hand. "Ed, we need to go."

"Right," he said.

I opened my eyes. "Right?"

Ed nodded.

"Just like that?" I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I was…w-was leading up to that."

He put a hand on Layla and smiled as her fussing faltered at his touch. He looked at me with a steady gaze that said, 'Listen.'

"We couldn't have asked f-for a better setup," he said, "with m-military sniffing around nearby. B-But it's going to be up to you, Win. I'll get you out, but you have to go f-find help after that. I…" He looked away with a sad smile. "I highly doubt I'll b-be able to…to make it v-very far in the condition I'm in right now. So I'm going to get you out. And you run until you f-find a soldier to help you and you tell them w-where I am, okay? And m-military will take care…take care of the rest."

"While you wait around to be killed?"

Ed smirked. "Alchemy's a p-powerful weapon. Don't need to run."

"Ed!"

"You're right about one thing," he said. "W-We should get you out soon. My…my transmutations primarily stem from m-my hands, so it'd be b-better if we did this before they take my arms."

I took a breath. "What are you going to do?"

"Well…" Ed began, looking up at the metal door. His gaze shifted to the wall with the tallies, then up at the window. He smiled. "Ever w-wonder what was outside that window?"

I had a feeling I was about to find out.

Ed clapped his hands together. Blue light began to glow between his palms. Layla's fussing heightened to screams, almost as if the look of the light disturbed her. I bit down on my lip, stifling the anxiety building in my chest, cursing myself as my eyes pricked with reflexive tears.

Edward paused. The metal door clicked as the lock turned. Ed's face drained of color in an instant. Without hesitation, Ed put his readily glowing hands over the coded pages beside him. I watched the typed writing warp and switch to look more like scratch paper. As the door at the top of the four stairs swung open and Ed stuck the stack of altered documents at arm's length, I realized quickly what had just happened. Ed had covered Jones's ass. Changing those papers was all the transmuting he had time for before Roberts stepped in.

"Get him in the center!" Roberts shouted. "I want this done!"

Monsters poured in. Monsters I didn't know. I didn't know a single one of them! Where was Jones? Where were the ones I knew? Where were the new ones I'd seen, the guards? This was too much! Too many people! How many were there? Twenty? A hundred? I hadn't been around so many strangers in months! Layla screeched in my arms. It took me a moment to realize I'd gone into sobs. Had become such a natural reaction. I could barely tell the difference sometimes from whether I was crying or wasn't.

"W-W-Win…" Ed's voice trembled; airy, weak, deathly scared. "I…"

His hand was on my wrist, more specifically the iron restraint cuffed to my wrist. For a moment, I caught the look of confliction, the pale expression of one who couldn't decide what to do next. What was he waiting for? Why was he just sitting there? He was a State Alchemist! He'd said he was powerful, right? He'd said he could hold them off! Why did he look like something was holding him back?

And then I saw it. The laser-red dot of light resting on the back of Layla's head. I followed it, its subtle beam. It disappeared through the window, our window. I put it together in moments. This was one of those things that never happened to normal girls; having a sniper rifle aimed at you with your baby in the middle.

Jones stalked out of the crowd and grabbed Edward's arm. His weathered features were deadpan as he jerked Ed's grasp from my wrist. Ed just shook his head, words not making it past his lips. My eyes darted around the crowd to where Roberts stood tall in the center, and that was where Jones dragged Edward. The crowd closed around Ed. A part of me was grateful I couldn't see what was happening past their tall, broad bodies. What I heard was plenty to know what I was missing.

"No," my mouth whispered. "No, stop."

"Hold him down!" someone said.

I'd heard Edward scream before. In his sleep, I'd heard him scream words, names, that kind of thing. This, though. This was different. The blood-freezing cry that filled the room, dominating the cacophony of rumbling male voices, was enough to make me vomit in my mouth. Instead of closing my eyes, I stared at the red dot on Layla's head, willing it to leave. Make it go away so I can do something, or keep it there to remind me what a bad idea it would be for me to interfere at this point. Just keep my eyes on that dot! Don't listen to his voice! Don't listen to their voices! Just listen to you daughter cry. Feel her in your arms. You're the grown up this time, Winry. Quit crying!

Somewhere in the midst of it, I must've started shaking more violently than I realized, because my leg brushed against something small and cool. My gaze ripped from the red dot to the floor, a startled gasp filling my lungs painfully fast. As I traced the object by my shin with my eyes, a deep, lurching feeling invaded my chest and I felt myself choking up. Was that a…key?

Thanks for trying, Jones.

That's what Ed had said.

Hold faith 'til you drop dead.

That's how Jones had answered.

When Jones had grabbed Ed's arm and jerked it away from me to drag him to the center, he wasn't being rough out of rushing or a fear of Roberts. He'd been smuggling a key to me!

To do what with?

I had a gun pointed at Layla's head. I had to be subtle. I was being watched by the eyes at the other end of that gun. Carefully, I shifted Layla to an easier one-armed hold, masking it as rubbing my tear-damp face. Suddenly the prospect of crying involuntarily given most any trigger didn't seem so bad as I continued to appear distressed and lost even as my mind worked out a plan of action. My body continued to flinch like a reflex with every one of Edward's loud cries and my hand easily closed around the key beside me, disguised by violent trembles and quakes. I hugged my arms tight around Layla just so, letting the shirt around her bunch over my hands and wrists so I was free to unlock the cuff unseen. After moments of fumbling, slipping, and grinding the rusted key into the lock on my wrist, horrifying split seconds of wondering if this was even what the key had been meant for or if it had been meant for me at all, I felt the lock on my wrist click. The heavy iron band fell heavy in my waiting palm and I held it there to keep from making a scene.

"Get it on ice!" Roberts yelled. "Careful, now! That's worth more than every one of you put together, you understand? Hurry and get it locked up so we can start on the next!"

Ed's breathing was so heavy, so strained, that I could hear it over all the voices and noise. I wondered what they'd started with, if it was too late for him to use his arms for alchemy. If I stood and, by some miracle, came up with something to do, would Ed be able to back me up? Had they taken his leg just now, or had it been one of his arms? Damn it! Screw that! He'd probably be in too much pain by now for it to matter either way! Jones, what the hell do you expect me to do?

Jones stepped over in tall, smooth strides, crossing through the swarm of men almost too abruptly for me to straighten my thoughts.

"Elric!" Jones lifted his muscular arm, a heavy-looking black gun balanced in his expert grasp. It pointed to the window. "Do it now!"

Jones's thick body blocked the sniper's aim from Layla's head.

As the ear-shattering throb of Jones's gun fired through the air, my knees snapped up to stand as if my legs were taking it on faith that Jones hadn't missed his target. I dropped the restraining cuff and chain to clatter on the stone floor and pivoted to face the wall, curling and shielding Layla's body from the monsters.

Gunshots filled the air as Roberts yelled orders and monsters drew weapons. I pressed Layla against the wall, praying my flesh and bones would be enough to slow bullets, for them not to make it through to her. I screamed out of surprise more than anything as something tore my back in a painful slice. God, it stung! My shoulders heaved with panicked breaths as hot liquid seeped quickly down the back of my blouse. Grazed? A shot to that area would've had me collapsing and dying in moments if it had penetrated. I'd been lucky. I needed to get out. I needed to get Layla out of there and go find help!

The ground seemed to vibrate under my bare feet as blue light coursed through the cracks between the laid stone. My eyes stole a glance over my shoulder in time to see the stone behind me morph and stack on itself to block the monsters from reaching me. The way they had spread, the way the chaos had scattered things, I could see Ed's sprawled form clearly. To his right, in place of what had been his arm was nothing but an empty space pooling with blood. To his left, his outstretched hand was painted in the red, pressing against a sloppily smudged transmutation circle. He'd dunked his remaining hand in his own blood and drawn the circle on the opposing side to compensate for his inability to transmute one-handed without a matrix. He breathed with effort, eyes fading as blue currents continued to stem from his hand.

"Oh, God," my mouth muttered. "He's going to bleed out."

Sloppy like the matrix, a gaping, lopsided hole transmuted at the window's level like some kind of doorway. A lumpy ramp burst through the ground, a path from me to the outside just steps away.

"Winry!" shouted Jones. His bulky form stood at the base of the ramp, gun pointed toward the monsters as if to guard me during my ascent. His acid eyes blinked with a shine I'd never seen from him before. He smiled and spoke. "Don't look back, love."

Taking a deep breath, I left my protected place against the wall and leapt the four strides it took to get to Ed's ramp. My giddy feet slipped against the stone, my knees banging into uneven sloped ground as I fought to climb, but I didn't pause to recover. Just forced the failed movement into the next, awkwardly scrambling with my tender baby cradled and shrieking in one strong arm.

I could see it. The sun! It was so close to me, so much bigger than I remembered it being! Through the gape in the wall, my escape, the door to the shockingly bare outside I'd imagined to be a hundred different scenes, the sun shone high in the sky, greeting me with the first true warmth I'd felt on my face in a full year. My hand clawed at the rim of the exit. So smooth and perfect and cool. Gentle wind whipped against me, ruffling through my clothes and flowing into my breaths, cooling the tears on my cheeks and jaw. I pulled up to the surface, the ground above this dark basement, this dungeon, and my heart raced at the feeling of dry earth under my foot. With a sob of gut wrenching delight, I took my first step outside in three hundred and seventy-eight days.

"You bitch!" Roberts's voice, raised like a screaming feral animal, shouted over the noise behind me. "You little whore! I'll strip your skin from your flesh!"

I was so close. One foot out already. But as I raised the second onto solid ground where I could plant my steps deep and run without the fear of slipping, that awful ripping feeling that had crossed the flesh of my back earlier hit me again. This time it was in my right thigh and this time it didn't just sting.

My leg buckled instantly as burning pain shot through, spreading up to my hip and down through my ankle and toes. The heat of the blood burbling from the wound terrified me even more than the amount, for some reason. Maybe because I was bleeding so fast that it was skewing my reasoning. I willed myself not to look. I knew seeing it was a bad idea, that it would scare me more. I knew it had hit this time. I didn't need to know any more than that.

I could hear Roberts's voice growing disturbingly close. I didn't look. He'd made it past Jones. I didn't look. Ed hadn't done anything to help in a while. I didn't look. I bit down on the pain. I forced myself up, channeling it, using it to drive me. Tears of agony streamed from my eyes. Tears of effort, not fear. I could do this. I could do this without Jones. Without Edward. Without anyone. I could save myself. I could save someone else! I still had both my legs!

Moments later, I was standing.

I stumbled through the opening into the sunlight, wind blowing around me in delightful, disorienting gusts.

"You bitch!" Robert yelled, words slightly garbled.

I jerked around to see him coming up to the mouth of the ramp. It made my stomach turn at the sight of him. He was far from unscathed. Shredded and covered in blood; first time I'd seen the man wearing his own. I felt a strange sense of pride, because it seemed Jones had finally gone on and shot Roberts like he'd always wanted.

Roberts breathed heavily as he gripped the exit to hoist himself up. His wild eyes met mine and a sickening grin flashed over his grimy face.

"You," he said. "I'm going to show you the meaning of pain."

I stepped forward in an awkward limp and raised my injured leg just enough to place it against his ugly mug.

"Meaning of pain?" I said, a grin tugging my mouth. His eyes widened in sudden realization as I retracted my foot to kick. "Ever been through childbirth, you lazy jackass?"

Roberts didn't get to reply. I dropped my heel hard against his face and the impact sent his already weakened body off balance. I knew the slickness of that ramp for myself. I didn't have to stick around to make sure that Roberts kept falling after he lost his grip. I didn't have time for that. Layla's tiny hand gripped to my blouse, reminding me she was there.

I staggered into a run.

"Don't die, boys," I panted as the involuntary tears dropped from my face. Images of Jones and Ed flashed through my thoughts. I bit down on my lip to the point of tasting blood as I forced my steps faster. "Don't die!"

* * *

**Badass Winry, anyone?**


End file.
